


Weekend Warriors

by sunalso



Series: Weekend Warriors Verse [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alphabet, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Humor, Roommates, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), Scrabble, Sexual Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-08-22 03:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 112,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16589864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: Sci-Ops Era AU. With work occupying most of their time, Fitz and Jemma need a convenient way to perfect their bedroom skills if they ever want to find and keep long-term partners. One agreed experiment of convenience and twenty-six letters will lead to twenty-six weekends of strictly no strings attached sexual experimentation. No kissing allowed. It’s a foolproof plan. An Alphabet Weekends au.Beta'd by Gort.





	1. From A to Zed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: As a warning, there are mentions of Jemma/other and Fitz/other in this chapter to set up the story._

Men were terrible.

Awful.

The worst.

Jemma stomped her way up the stairs to her flat, jammed the key in the lock, and slammed the door closed behind her.

“Jemma?” Fitz called from the living room as she kicked her pumps off one at a time. They hit the wall with a satisfying bang. “Hello, Jemma?” She growled under her breath. Terrific, just what she wanted, another man to deal with.

She marched into the living room. Fitz was slouched on the sofa in track pants and a ratty t-shirt, a gaming headset on and a bowl of Cheetos in his lap. He hadn’t shaved, and his curls were a rat’s nest. Jemma crossed her arms. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you have plans?”

“Uh, yeah—” Fitz licked Cheeto dust from his fingers. “Gaming night.”

There was a tinny voice over the headset, “Fitz is out, his missus just showed up.” Fitz yanked the earphones off and powered down the console.

“Why aren’t you out with Sally, or Sheila, or whatever her name is,” Jemma snapped. “It’s Saturday night.”

Fitz frowned. “Sherri, and we broke up three weeks ago.”

“You did? Why don’t I know this?”

“She dumped me, but it really wasn’t a big deal. “ Fitz shrugged.

Jemma edged around the coffee table, where Fitz deposited his bowls of Cheetos, and sat beside him. “Sorry I didn’t know.”

“It hurt, but not that much. Wouldn’t have worked anyway. Sherri couldn’t balance an equation properly to save her life.” Jemma snorted, and Fitz smiled. “I’m fine, but it looks like you didn’t have a good night. Did Milton do something?”

Jemma flopped back against the couch cushions with a groan. “Oh, screw him.” Fitz’s brows went up. “Or not, actually. We’re done. He’s a…oh, I don’t even know. He’s not worth coming up with an appropriate description.”

“Slug? Pig? Snake? Piece of—”

“Yes, all of that.”

“What was the final straw?”

Jemma heaved a sigh. “It wasn’t exactly one thing. We’re not as compatible as I had hoped. But I lost it tonight when, after he agreed that white wine paired with steak, he also agreed with me when I made an argument in favor of a modernized version of Johnathan Swift’s idea.”

“You suggested cannibalism as a solution to overpopulation?”

“It might have been an intentional plant on my part.” Jemma put her hands over her face. “But, Fitz! He agreed. Not as a joke. He earnestly said that he could see it as a viable option.”

“Future founder of Soylent Green.” Fitz patted her knee. “What did you do?”

“I stood up and dumped the red wine I was drinking with my steak over his head and told him not to ever talk to me again.”

“That’s a girl.”

“I’m just so mad. I knew Milton and I weren’t going to last, but he could have tried not to be quite so annoying.”

Fitz leaned back, and she put her head on his shoulder. “How’d you know it wasn’t going to last?”

Jemma hesitated. “We weren’t very compatible.”

“You already said that. In what way? Besides that you’re echelons more intelligent than him.”

“Well, I’m not sure you want to hear this.”

Fitz linked his arm with hers. “You can tell your roommate and best friend.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Is that a whine I hear?”

Jemma pouted. “Fine, but I cannot be held responsible if you get grossed out.”

“Cast iron stomach.”

“That is a giant lie.”

“Tell me anyway,” Fitz said. “But let’s head to the kitchen. This sounds like a situation that requires tea.” They stood at the same time, and Fitz headed to the kitchen as she trailed behind him. While he filled the kettle, she pulled down two mugs and got out the sugar and tea bags.

Fitz didn’t press her while the water boiled and they let the tea steep. It was one of the things she appreciated most about her friend. He knew when to push her and when to hold back. They sat down at their tiny kitchen table, her knees bumping his underneath it, and they sipped their tea in tandem. She put her mug on the table and wrapped her hands around it.

“Milton and my interests did not align in bed,” she said. Fitz set his tea down hard and coughed. “Are you choking?” He was turning a little red.

“I’m fine, continue.”

“Milton might have agreed with me on everything else, but in bed, he took over without a word. Every time we were together, it was the same. Some kissing, he’d paw my breasts, and then it was missionary or nothing.” She was getting peeved all over again. “I flat out asked him once if I could be on top and he looked more shocked than he did at permissible cannibalism.”

Fitz rubbed the back of his neck. “Sounds a bit like me and Sherri.”

“Oh, Fitz, did you break up over sex?”

“I think so? Wasn’t great for my ego, I can tell you that.” He hid his face behind his mug as he took a long, and loud, sip. She breathed in the sweet but slightly acidic steam coming from tea as she put a hand over Fitz’s on the table. Jemma hadn’t really known Sherri. The girl had always looked at Jemma like she was something on her shoe, though Jemma had no clue what she’d possible done to draw such ire.

“I told you mine,” Jemma said. “Now tell me yours so we can be miserable together.”

Fitz took another drink before setting his mug down. “Promise not to hate me.”

“If I didn’t hate you after you left the fridge cracked in the lab during second year and ruined a week’s worth of cell growth, I’m not going to hate you about this.

Fitz rolled his eyes. “That was an accident. And the seal was always wonky anyway.” Jemma looked over the rim of her mug at him. “And I’m very sorry, and it won’t happen again.”

“Better not. Now spill, or I’ll run out and find a cat liver.”

He made a face, but then it fell, and he looked down into his tea. “I don’t have much experience, yeah? Got done a bit quick, so I thought I should, y’know, lick, to make up for that.”

“Very gentlemanly of you. Milton never even offered.”

“Wanker.”

“I’m not seeing the problem in your story so far.”

Fitz heaved a huge, exasperated sigh. “She wasn’t good at giving direction. I think, after a million years, she might have got off, I don’t really know, but she pulled me back up to the pillow beside her and asked what I was thinking about because I seemed distant.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and Jemma sat back. This should be good. “So I started telling her about the project you and I were working on at the time because it’s what I’d been turning over in my head.”

Jemma bit her lip.

“Sherri acted completely insane when she was the one that’d asked! I’d just spent approximately the length of the last ice age attempting to be nice to her, which is a lot of time—” he poked his forehead “—in which to contemplate things. She just turned into a harpy. Screaming and pushing me out of bed.”

It was very hard not to laugh, but Fitz looked miserable. “She sounds very unreasonable.”

“Right? She kept saying over and over that she knew I’d been thinking about you. And I told her of course I had, we’re lab partners, and it’s a joint project. I ended up getting my pants on before she shoved me out the door, but had to put the rest of my kit on while standing on her stoop. In the cold. Harpy. I had to knock and ask for a missing boot, and she hit me in the chest with it and said we were through. As if I hadn’t worked that out already.”

“What’d you do?”

“I came home, and that’s the night we watched _Scream_.”

“Oh, I remember that. I had no idea.”

Fitz hitched a shoulder. “It truly wasn’t a big deal. But I think I must not be good at sex.”

“I doubt that. You excel at everything you do. But I think you’re in the same boat I am.”

Fitz scrunched up his nose. “What boat’s that?”

“Well, if I want to impress a partner that I would consider for a lasting relationship and wish have a family with, I need to be sexually proficient. Are we in agreement on that?” He nodded slowly. “But it’s difficult to gain any experience, or any useful experience when there are so many emotions involved in a relationship, and every sexual encounter carries the weight of needing to perform perfectly.”

“Yes. Thank you. Should’ve known you’d understand.”

Jemma carted their empty mugs to the sink and rinsed them out before setting them in the dishwasher. Her mind was churning. There had to be a solution. Two good friends couldn’t let each other be destined for loneliness simply because being young and employed in a highly competitive field left little time to search for casual partners to practice their sexual skills with.

“You’re planning,” Fitz said from where he was still sitting at the table.

“I’m considering.” Two people that needed sexual experience. Her and Fitz. The solution was simple. They could practice with each other. She thought he was cute enough that arousal wouldn’t be an issue, and they already had trust. Truly, it was the perfect way to increase their competence. Like when they’d run each other through academic drills at the Academy. Just with fewer clothes.

She needed a pad of paper to write all the ideas swirling in her mind down on and went to the junk drawer. Which was more of a mess than she was expecting. There were loose poker chips, cards from several decks mixed together in a pile, three or four random Monopoly pieces, a Yahtzee score pad, and the bag containing the letters from their edition of Scrabble. They must have been more pissed than she’d thought after their last game night to have just chucked everything into a drawer. Rooting around for a pencil, she yelped when the Scrabble bag tipped out over the edge of the drawer.

It hit the floor before she could catch it and the tiles pinged all over the cheap linoleum.

“Fudge,” she whispered as she unearthed a pad of yellow paper from the bottom of the drawer and a pen advertising her dentist’s office.

“That was smooth, Simmons,” Fitz said, abandoning his chair to hunt for lost tiles under the table.

“Very. It was exactly what I intended to do.” She sat down on the floor and picked up the now empty Scrabble bag and began to gather the scattered tiles, herding them towards each other.

“Prior to creating a mess, what were you considering?”

“We need experience, Fitz, before we try dating again. Sexual experience.”

“And how do you propose we get that?” he said from under the table.

“Well, friends are always very understanding of concerns like learning how to perform a skill. They’re not demanding. And we work so well together and are friends. I believe we should have sex with each other”.

There was a thump from the table, then a loud string of curses as Fitz crawled out from under it and threw several Scrabble tiles at her. He rubbed at his head. “You want to run that by me again?”

“We’re two adults who are excellent friends. We have an established working relationship. This is simply another joint experiment.”

She gathered all the tiles she had into a pile. Fitz sent one from by a baseboard spinning towards her, and she pinned it against the floor with a stab of her finger. It was an S. She searched through her pile and fished out an E and an X, lining them up together. Sex. Silly little word, to have so much power over people.

Fitz crawled over and sat beside her, staring down at the tiles.

“Just another experiment?” he asked.

“Sure. Not so different than anything we’ve done together before. We’ll set up a schedule and parameters. The constant is us. The variables—”

“Are what we do together.” Fitz hunched over with his arms crossed. “There should be some degree of randomization.”

Excitement fizzed in her belly. They were going to learn so much. She put the pad of paper on her knee and hovered the pen over it a moment before writing ‘subjects’ and listing herself and Fitz.  ‘Timeframe’, she turned to Fitz. “What’s a good timeframe?”

“Frequency first. How often is appropriate?”

“It can’t be during the week. We’re too focused on work.”

“Sunday we have to spend typing up reports and getting ready for the next week.” Fitz poked at the tiles. She couldn’t quite read his expression. “I guess that leaves Saturday.”

She nodded. “Excellent, we can start a week from now.”

“Alright. Are we just going to pick what we’re going to do out of a hat?”

Jemma tapped the pen against her lips after writing ‘weekly on Saturday’. “That’s not a bad idea, but it implies we come up with every possible thing we ever want to explore or try all at once. Since we’re supposed to be learning about ourselves, our preferences might develop over time.”

“I don’t have any brilliant ideas about that,” Fitz said, grabbing a handful of the Scrabble tiles.

“Wait!” she cried, and his hand stopped moving. “The tiles. We can put the entire alphabet in a bag and pull one on Sunday morning. The sex act has to either start with the letter or at least be related to it. And we put in a blank one so there’s the chance of pulling it and picking whatever you like. That will provide randomization and ensure a wide variety of activities.”

Fitz’s brows drew together. “Okay. That works. Good thinking. And it further defines the timeframe, because twenty-six letters means twenty-six weekends.” He dropped the tiles he was holding, and they both quickly sorted out the entire alphabet, a to zed. She put them in the official Scrabble bag and got up to get a ziplock to hold the extras.

Jemma was mulling over the time. It was half a year. “Fitz.” He stood up from where he was pulling a beer out of the fridge.

“Yeah?”

“We need more ground rules. For these six months, we don’t date. We’re working on perfecting ourselves.”

“Yes, sure, that sounds good. Less pressure.”

She held out her hand, and he gave her the beer, stooping to get himself another. “We can have veto power over any act if it crosses a line, but we have to say why. Acts are to be decided by Friday and communicated to the other person, in writing, via email.” Fitz nodded. “And I think no kissing.”

Fitz opened his beer, then hers, his face thoughtful. “Why?”

“Because we’re only experimenting with each other. We save the kissing for our future significant others.”

His brows drew together. “It sounds a little clinical.”

“We are being clinical.” She rolled her eyes.

“Right. I think I like having boundaries.”

Jemma held her hand out. “Twenty-six weeks, twenty-six Saturdays, twenty-six sex acts. Agreed?”

Fitz shook her hand decisively. “Agreed.” He sipped his beer. “Want to watch a movie?”

“What about a terrible sci-fi one so we can have a laugh?”

Fitz clicked his beer bottle against hers. “You’re on.”

****

The next morning, Jemma made their usual Sunday breakfast of blueberry waffles and sausage. Fitz always said he needed a lot of fuel to get through all the paperwork they had to tackle. And she liked the routine and discussing projects with him while they ate.

This morning, she set the Scrabble bag full of letters in the middle of the table.

Fitz shuffled out of his room in an old jumper that was pulled over his striped pajamas. He yawned and sat at the kitchen table as she put a waffle in front of him.

“Good morning!” she chirped. Fitz grunted in reply and dumped far too much syrup on his plate. As he set the bottle down, he froze, staring at the Scrabble bag.

“We’re really doing this?” he asked.

“Yes?” she said cautiously.

“I thought you were probably just stringing me along. Still think you might be.”

“Ugh, Fitz, no. How can I prove it to you that I’m not kidding?” She was upset at him thinking she’d joke about something like this.

Fitz’s face screwed up. “Take your clothes off.”

He immediate dug into his breakfast, apparently thinking he’d called her bluff. She sighed and stripped off her slacks and blouse. Fitz hadn’t seemed to have noticed, being focused on his waffle. To add emphasis, she removed her bra and knickers as well. “Fitz,” she said when he continued to smugly eat his syrup-soaked breakfast.

He looked up, and his fork clattered to his plate.

“Now do you think I’m serious?” she asked, a hand on one hip.

His eyes swept up and down her and the intensity made warmth blossom in her belly. That was an excellent sign.

“Yeah, serious,” he croaked.

Jemma nodded towards the Scrabble bag. “Pick a letter. You get to go first because I say so, and because you doubted me.”

Fitz hastily grabbed the bag, shook it, and reached inside. Removing his hand, he slowly turned his fist over and opened his fingers.

Sitting on his palm was their first letter: **C**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @ughfitz for the idea! [Alphabet Weekends](https://sunalsolove.tumblr.com/post/179831291199/ughfitz-sunalsolove-ughfitz-alphabet)


	2. C

It’d been the longest week of Fitz’s life.

It’d started Sunday with Jemma standing naked in their kitchen and him figuring out she hadn’t been pulling his leg. She actually intended them to boff each other regularly.

Any protest he might have mounted had run off with no forwarding address once he’d seen her boobs. He was getting an all-access pass to those, and the rest of Jemma, and he’d be an idiot to argue. Wasn’t it every man’s dream? Sex with no strings attached?

Her being naked had led to him scarfing down his breakfast and bolting to his room the instant she’d had her back to him. His excuse had been shouted over his shoulder and involved answering emails, but he’d really needed to have a wank to get rid of the rock-hard erection he’d had after seeing Jemma in the nude.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know his best friend was an attractive woman, but after his initial crush on her, she’d become to mean so much to him that he’d shoved any desire for her far, far down because risking their easy comradery had never been an option.

Now, all that lust had come springing up from its hiding place like a bloody jack-in-the-box. Great.

For the entire week he’d had to work closely with her, and while everything was still easy between them, it was very difficult not to imagine her naked as a jaybird in their lab. Doing any one of a number of sex acts with him.

It was amazing he’d got any work done at all.

Now it was Friday afternoon, and he was sitting at his office computer, typing up a report on their new joint project. It’d been handed to—really more dumped on— them Tuesday morning. Their boss had shown up with a mismatched pile of sensors and told Fitz and Jemma that they needed to create miniaturized versions. He’d then given them an impossible timeline and budget they’d have to sort out later. Jemma had looked ready to chuck a chemical sniffer at their boss’s head as he walked out.

It’d taken Jemma and Fitz the rest of the week to sort out what they had, what they needed to create, and to work out a proper budget. Then rework it when it hadn’t been approved. Fitz rubbed at his eyes. He’d begun the design process for a scanner that would identify types of metal, but there were a lot of challenges, and he was writing up a report on what experiments he’d need to start next week.

An alert popped up on his phone.

 **Jemma: Please send your email shortly so I have time to prepare**.

Well, shite. There went the rest of Fitz’s workday. He’d finish the report on Sunday afternoon because there was no way he’d be thinking about anything besides Jemma and sex now.

He texted her back to give him a few and opened his email. There was a message from Jemma there as well, with the results of the STD screens she’d run for both of them, which were thankfully clean. Jemma was on birth control, which meant, along with the report, that they did not require any other protection.

Fitz didn’t have a clue how he felt about that yet.

He did know what he wanted C to be, however. He’d known immediately.

It was a little harder to email it to Jemma.

He’d even toyed around with a few other ideas. The obvious ‘cock’, though somehow, he didn’t think just presenting Jemma with an erection and telling her to have at it was a winning idea. ‘Chest’ had interesting possibilities but wasn’t really a sex act, and ‘Coming on your tits’ probably wasn’t the best thing to lead with. ‘Cunt’ was not an email he was willing to send to her, ever.

‘Chocolate’ had been a real possibility, because drizzling Jemma’s creamy skin in chocolate syrup and licking it off was certainly something he’d be up for, but he wouldn’t learn much. He already knew he would like doing that.

‘Cunnilingus’ it was. Which also involved ‘clit’, which was another good ‘c’ word.

He started a new email and typed. ‘Jemma’, then erased it. ‘Dear Ms. Simmons’, nope, absolutely not. ‘Hey, Jems’. Fitz erased that too. He probably didn’t need a greeting.

He typed ‘cunnilingus’, hit enter to go to the next line and added ‘-Fitz’ before sighing and deleting his name. Who else would be sending her sex acts from his account? Should he add anything, else? A whole paragraph about how he thought this was an excellent way to start and something he wanted to excel at?

Fitz hit the send button before he could think himself into a corner. He stared at the screen until she sent a message back. He clicked on it immediately.

‘Excellent choice! I’m looking forward to tomorrow. : -)’

He blinked at his screen. Jemma had included a happy face. She never used emojis. Was she that pleased about his choice? Had she gone daft?

Dropping his head into his hands, Fitz sighed. He should have known things would get complicated fast.

****

Saturday afternoon found Fitz sitting in the kitchen while he poked at the innards of their toaster, which wasn’t working like it was supposed to. He was nervous and trying to direct his energy into something productive.

Friday night had been surprisingly okay. Which had made Fitz feel much better. They’d sat on the couch, and he’d used a tablet to start designing a drone that’d been in the back of his mind for a while. After making sure he wasn’t doing something for work, Jemma had brewed them tea and sat reading a novel with her feet on his lap while they’d listened to music.

It’d been very normal.

Jemma had gotten up early the next morning and gone with friends from work for a hike somewhere followed by brunch, and he’d spent the time rereading every internet source he could find that gave advice on eating out a girl. Though half of it was contradictory and he had no idea if the rest would apply to Jemma. He’d eventually abandoned his research and gotten himself cleaned up and as presentable as possible for her, shaving meticulously and convincing his hair not to be overly poofy. He’d just sat down with the toaster when Jemma had come home. She’d greeted him, drunk half a bottle of water, and gone to shower. That’d been an hour ago.

At three o’clock, Jemma, wearing a robe, came to stand beside the table. “Can I convince you to put down the screwdriver for a bit?” she asked, toying with the end of her sash. “I thought now might be an excellent time for us to get started.”

Fitz rocketed to his feet. “Sure. Yeah. Sounds good. My room or yours?”

“Mine, if you don’t mind.”

He shook his head, and she smiled, holding out her hand. He took it, and she led him to her room, which was as tidy as always, except the bed covers were missing. Her coffee colored fitted sheet was still on the bed, and there was a mound of pillows at the head, all in neat cases.

Jemma turned away from him and dropped her robe. She was nude. His mouth went dry as his eyes traced the curves of her arse and hips.

She glanced over her shoulder at him.

Oh god, this was happening. Now. His cock was hardening, his teeth felt weird, and he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

“Fitz, I think you should take your shirt off, but you can leave your trousers on for now if you’d like.”

He looked down at himself. Why the hell had he chosen a shirt with buttons? God, had she noticed his erection? Because it was already tenting out the front of his slacks. He made an attempt at the buttons, but his fingers didn’t seem to be working.

Jemma appeared in front of him and dear lord, those were her tits, the freckles begging to be connected in lines drawn by his tongue, and her nipples were hard. And dark pink. He wasn’t sure he was breathing.

“Relax,” she said, putting her hands on his chest. “Breathe in—” He gulped in air. “And now, slowly, out.” He did, and the room felt less like it was spinning. “No pressure, remember? You don’t have to impress me.”

He was still watching her breasts, delighted by how they moved as she spoke. “I don’t want you to be disappointed,” he confessed to them.

“I won’t be,” Jemma said. Somehow, he dragged his gaze to her face. Her expression was warm, and she looked slightly flushed. “I hope I am an adequate teacher.” Her fingers nimbly undid his shirt, and she helped him shrug it off. He was a little worried about how he looked until she put her hands on his chest and her breathing hitched. That was encouraging.

He started to bend down to kiss her, stopping when he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to. This was an experiment. He took another deep breath.

“Let’s get you on the bed,” he said to Jemma, and to his surprise, her flush deepened.

She crawled onto the mattress, and settled on her back, her shoulders propped up on the pillows. Her knees were bent up, and she grinned at Fitz before letting her legs fall open.

Her pussy was pink and inviting. And hairless. He was certain she’d had dark curls down there last week.

“You shaved for me?” he asked.

Jemma stroked a finger over her mound. “I thought it’d be easier to show you the anatomical structures.”

“Makes sense,” he said levelly, though his mind was pinwheeling with joy over Jemma having shaved her pussy for him. She’d been standing in the shower, dragging a razor over her sex and thinking about him. His cock twitched.

“Come have a closer look.” Her voice sounded amused.

He kneeled on the foot of the bed and shuffled forward until he was able to drop down onto his hands, his face hovering over her folds. She was perfect, pink and slick. He almost wanted just to close his eyes and snuggle his cheek against her.

Her fingers were holding her lips wide. Using her other hand, she pointed out the anatomy to him. “Labia majora, labia minora, which are often more pronounced than mine, vagina, and clitoris.”

Her clit was a darker pink nub pushing out at the top of her folds. “Your clitoris is highly visible,” Fitz said, studying it. “Is that an anatomical variation?”

“Well, I am very aroused. I think you see the evidence of that.”

Fitz glanced up at her face. Her pupils were huge, and she was biting a swollen-looking lip. His cock pulsed hungrily, and he ground it against the mattress, needing some relief. Jemma was very obviously turned on. By him.

That was a surprise.

She was the most beautiful and intelligent person he’d ever met, it only made sense that he was attracted to her, but seeing her wanting him was magical. Almost unbelievable. She’d been his friend for ages, but this was a whole new side of her he knew nothing about, and he only had six months unlock its secrets. Whatever wanker she eventually married better be thankful for the time Fitz was about to spend helping her perfect the physical aspects of love.

“How should I start?” he asked.

“What do you want to do?”                                                                           

“I would like to lick all over your pussy, to get familiar with it and your taste.”

“Excellent. Do you have issues with the flavor of vaginal secretions?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “With the word secretions, yes, with the taste, no.”

“I thought proper terminology would be best.”

“You would.” He dropped his head, breathed in her tangy scent, and licked her from her opening to her clit.

She made an unearthly noise and her hips bucked, which was very satisfying. Fitz pressed his cock against the bed again. Fitz’s tongue wandered over every part of her pussy, exploring the plump outer lips and smaller inner ones. He darted it inside her opening and dragged it along every dip and rise of her cunt. He saved her clit for last, slowly circling it while Jemma mewled.

That was his new favorite sound. Even better than a cold beer being opened on a hot day or the chime that indicated a computer simulation he was running had successfully completed.

He paused but didn’t raise his head, too enraptured by her body. “What would you like me to do now?”

“I think continue to lick my clit. Alternate lapping it and circling it.”

He was happy to do as she asked and was encouraged by the sounds she made and how her hips wiggled and jerked.

After a few minutes, she put a hand on his head and tapped lightly. “Ready for something more advanced?”

“Certainly.”

“Do as you are, though maybe a little more firmly, but add in occasionally sucking at my clitoris, and dropping down to stick your tongue in my vagina and then dragging it back up.”

“I can do that.” He returned to his task, and Jemma’s moans got louder. He sucked and licked at her, finding the act of delving his tongue into her opening before pressing the tip firmly against her as he worked it back to her clit to be something he very much enjoyed. His cock was achingly hard in his trousers, and he couldn’t help continuing to grind against the bed.

Jemma’s fingers curled into his hair. “You are doing excellent, Fitz. Remarkable. I think I’m getting close to coming, and I should tell you that I can orgasm several times close together if you don’t stop.”

He looked up at her face. “Really? I sort of thought that might be a myth.”

“A myth?” She snorted. “Honestly. I can assure you I’m quite capable, though so far only with self-given pleasure. Never…with another person providing the stimulation.”

The image of Jemma lying on her bed and her hands working to get herself off was a very pleasant one, and Fitz was determined to be at least as capable as she was. Everyone thought Jemma was the more competitive of the two of them, but he was just less obvious about it. He hadn’t gotten a doctorate at fifteen because he was willing to let other people be better than he was.

His tongue flicked against her clit with determination, and her hips heaved. He groaned and pushed his cock against the mattress. He was almost certain he could get off on the taste of her alone. Jemma moaned and writhed, and he figured he needed a way to control her movements as she humped his face.

His brain nearly imploded. Jemma Simmons was fucking his mouth.

He surged forward, wrapping his arms under her thighs and pressing her legs farther apart with his shoulders. He was able to use his hands to hold her pussy open wide and dove in, ignoring how obscene the noises he was making were as he licked and sucked on her.

Jemma was getting louder, her fingers digging into his scalp as she rocked her hips.

It was the most erotic thing he’d ever been involved in, but it was still a surprise when his sac drew tight against his body and his prick jerked as he came in his pants. He groaned and licked Jemma harder, growling against her pussy as he smashed his pelvis into the bed.

Her back arched and her grip on his curls became a little painful, but he didn’t care. She churned her hips against his tongue, her thighs quivered, and he was utterly fascinated as he felt her climax overtake her.

Fitz sank his tongue into her channel, amazed how it fluttered as it throbbed. He slid his tongue back up to her clit and Jemma gasped.

“Don’t fucking stop,” she snarled. He didn’t, licking her and rocking with her as she cried out and came again quickly. He pressed firmly against her clit, which also pulsed with her release, much to his delight. Jemma gently pulled his head up as her breathing started to return to normal.

“More?” he asked, but she shook her head.

“I need a break.”

He pressed a last kiss to her pussy and untangled himself from her body, scooting up to lay next to her. Jemma groaned and stretched her legs out, pointing her toes. The mess in his pants was uncomfortable, but he didn’t mind as he watched Jemma wiggle and smile.

She rolled to face him. “We should debrief.”

“Of course.” Not that he had any clue what she meant.

“That was nice, Fitz. I enjoyed myself immensely. I especially liked how you used your arms, and varied the shape of your tongue. I am very satisfied.”

He was thrilled at her glowing report. “You made it easy. You provided high-quality feedback and clear direction.”

Jemma nodded. “This experiment was completely successful.” She was silent for a moment. “Should we go to that new Italian place for dinner?”

“That sounds good. I just need to change my trousers first.”

She looked confused. “Why?”

“Because I, uh…came in them.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Your supposed to include that sort of thing in the debrief.” An emotion he didn’t catch flickered over her face. “Did you really reach orgasm while licking me?”

“Before you did,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re very inspirational.”

Jemma looked almost awed as a huge grin spread over her face. “This is going to be the best six months ever.”

****

The next morning, Fitz woke to the usual smell of waffles and sausage.

Any fear that he’d had that having sex would make things impossibly awkward between him and Jemma had quickly disappeared last night as they’d chatted about the sensors they were working on over linguini and clams. He’d felt relaxed and comfortable, though that might also have been the wine. Or the orgasm.

Jemma had been right, keeping their sexual endeavors as a mutual experiment without cuddling and kissing or all the other trappings of a romantic relationship really did make everything much simpler. Fitz appreciated not having to worry about anything extra that he could fail at.

With the promise of his usual Sunday breakfast wafting under his door, he pulled a jumper over his pajamas and headed barefoot to the kitchen.

Jemma was standing at the stove, humming softly to herself as she turned the sausages in the frying pan. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and he took a moment to admire how adorable she looked in her pajamas, but then he couldn’t wait. He grabbed the bag of Scrabble tiles from the drawer and sidled up to her, leaning against the counter as he held the bag out.

“Good morning,” she said, positively cheerful and nearly glowing. She set the spatula down and wiped her hands. “I nearly barged in and dragged you out of bed so I could pick my tile. I’m glad we’re on the same page as always.”

Fitz shook the bag at her.

Pressing her lips together, she reached in and grabbed a tile. Holding it between her thumb and forefinger, she presented it to him.

It was the letter: **X**.


	3. X

It was a little unfair that Fitz had gotten such an easy letter, and Jemma had gotten X. There weren’t a terrible lot of words that started with X, and especially not a lot of sex-related ones.

It was Wednesday morning and she had still to decide on something. Fitz was hunched over a lab bench, picking apart the innards of one of the sensors they’d been given, and Jemma was compiling data from test runs. Mostly compiling data. She should be compiling data, not sneaking glances at Fitz’s rear.

It was a nice rear, and now that she knew she would have a chance to touch it, it made it that much more interesting.

Could she get away with X being sex, since it was the last letter? Fitz had excelled at using his tongue on her, which wasn’t surprising, he’d really only needed a few parameters set to run with the idea. Which was how he’d always been, anyone who didn’t know that he did better on a project with basic guidelines and feedback didn’t know him at all.

Jemma tried to focus on her computer again, only to be interrupted as their boss, Richard, stopped in the doorway.

“Jemma, a word?” he said, then disappeared.

She groaned, and Fitz gave her a sympathetic look as she stood to follow Richard.

In the office, with its too large desk and oversized name plaque that read Richard Head in large script, she squeezed into a rickety plastic chair and waited.

Richard handed her a manila envelope. “Sorry to do this to you.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “But I need you to fly to Tallahassee this weekend and help with a biochemistry project there. Something with water filtration.” He waved a hand. “It’s all in that packet, along with your ticket.” 

In what she considered an amazing act of self-control, Jemma did not roll her eyes. A flight down the eastern seaboard wouldn’t be horrible, but it did throw a monkey wrench into her and Fitz’s plans.

She took the envelope, nodded at Richard, and returned to the lab.

Her face must have betrayed her irritation, because Fitz squinted at her, then crossed the room to rub her arm. “What’s he want now?”

“I’m flying to Florida on Friday because some twit can’t figure out how to get bacteria out of swamp water.”

Fitz’s face fell. “Bloody hell. We just get started on something, at work and home, and they’re sending you off.” He looked miserable.

“The sensor work can miss me for a day, and I promise I will still figure out a way to work things out this weekend for our other project.” Her determination slid into place as Fitz perked up. “I promise.” She didn’t know how, yet, but she was an excellent problem solver.

***

The airport was full of noise and people, but Jemma had gotten to her gate early and claimed a chair in a back corner so no one could sit or walk behind her. Mobile in hand, she smiled to herself as she pulled up her email and sent Fitz a message.

‘For Saturday: X-rated. We’re going to sext each other.’

He replied immediately: ‘Okay, but that’s not ever something I’ve done.’

Jemma was thrilled he hadn’t tried to talk her out of it. ‘I haven’t either. But not to worry, I wrote a small guide about what I think would work.’ She attached the document to the email and sent it.

‘Jemma, this is three pages.’

‘As a said, just a small guide. Most of the articles I found online weren’t very helpful, so I made my own.’

She waited while he presumably skimmed her guide. A notification lit her screen up.

‘You really want a picture of that?’

‘Yes. I do.’

‘Okay.’

Jemma could nearly feel his discomfort radiating through the screen. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen a penis before, and she was looking forward to being able to boost Fitz’s self-confidence because she was sure, based on the tent in his pants last Saturday, that his would be absolutely adequate.

She switched from email to text **. I’m going to do some shopping for things we’re going to need over the next few months. I’ll send you pages for approval or to help me choose. Please let me know if you have any suggestions.**

**For the home project.**

**Yes, that one.**

**I don’t have any suggestions.**

Jemma snorted to herself and pulled up an adult products store on her web browser. She started with the most basic necessity, lube. Copying the address of several pages, she sent them to Fitz.

His answer made her laugh. **Why do none of these list viscosity? How are we supposed to decide? The label?**

 **Do any seem like they’d work?** She texted back.

 **Just get the basic one. I’m sure it’s fine.** There was a pause. **And maybe the warming one.**

She added them to the cart.

Her phone beeped. **What about a dildo?**

So now he had suggestions? **Is this for you or me?**

 **You.** It was immediately followed by another message. **Maybe for me to use on you?**

**That would be acceptable. Pick one.**

There was a good ten minute wait before Fitz sent her a link. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting at all, and certainly nothing like she’d ever used. It was blue glass, with wavy ridges along the length, and a head designed for extra stimulation as well. It was very thoughtful of him and her core pulsed faintly and the thought of Fitz pushing it inside her. She hit the button to add it to her order.  

Her phone pinged. **Is that okay?** Fitz asked. **I thought the fact that you can heat it up or cool it down would be interesting.**

 **The thermal aspects are quite intriguing. I added it to the cart.** She shifted in the uncomfortable airport chair. This was more of a turn on then she’d been expecting.

**Excellent. Other toys? Nipple clamps?**

As always, Fitz had great ideas. **Brilliant, but I’m picking them, you’ll spend three hours arguing the mechanics otherwise.**

**Suit yourself.**

She spent a few minutes looking through the selection, finally picking a fairy basic adjustable pair with beads that hung off the end.

Jemma had just added them to the cart when Fitz texted her again with a link. **Get this.**

It was a bondage set with cuffs, several different ties, and a blindfold. Her brows shot up. **For you or me?**

**Both?**

Her nipples were tight little points, which surprised her. She’d just learned something about Fitz and herself. **In the cart,** she sent.

A garbled voice announced the flight was boarding and Jemma quickly checked out before standing with her carry on.

She texted Fitz again: **Boarding. The package should arrive next Thursday. I’ll call when I get to Florida.**

**Have a good flight.**

****

Jemma collapsed on her hotel bed. It’d been the longest Saturday of her life. She’d been stuck in a hazmat suit leading a couple of flat-out idiots through basic chemistry that they should have already known. But the project was mostly finished, just a quick wrap up in the morning and she could fly home.

With a groan, she stood and went and showered. The hotel’s hairdryer was pathetic, but it did the job. She didn’t want to get her pillows damp.

Pulling a robe on, she sat on the side of the bed and stared at her phone. She did not feel sexy, but she’d promised.

 **Are you at home?** She texted Fitz.

**Yes. Are we going to do this?**

Jemma bit her lip. **What are you wearing?**

**Slacks and a t-shirt.**

Jemma laughed and flopped back on the bed. She scooted up and propped herself on the pillows. Obviously, Fitz needed some help. She turned her phone camera on and arranged her hair and pulled her robe open far enough that the tops of her breasts were visible. She took a selfie, smiling slightly and hoping she looked sultry. **Take off your shirt and send me a pic. This is what I’m wearing.**

**You look amazing.**

Jemma smiled. He was being too nice. She mostly looked tired, and her hair was frizzy from the humidity. A notification popped up, but it looked like a fuzzy picture of a foot and their carpet. Another ping. **Sorry, didn’t mean to send that. Hang on.**

With a laugh, she opened the front of her robe completely and took a shot of her breasts.

This time when Fitz sent a photo, it was him shirtless and smiling at the camera. His hair was curling adorably, and her chest ached. She missed him, but she’d be home tomorrow, and there’d be a little time to hang out before bed. Her heart rate sped up a fraction thinking of him and what they were about to do. Her pussy clenched and she could feel herself getting slicker. Her exhaustion became much less important.

She sent him the shot of her breasts.

The reply was quick this time. **Touch them for me.**

She cupped one squeezed, grazing her thumb over the tip. She typed with her other hand. **Feels good, but I wish it was your hand, strong and warm, on them. Touch yourself, run your hands down your chest.**

She imagined him doing so as she plucked at a nipple.

 **Your touch would feel better** , Fitz texted.

 **I want to feel all of you,** she sent back. **Just thinking about it has me wet.**

 **Oh god.** Jemma knew exactly what tone of voice he would say that in. It was followed quickly by another message. **I’m so hard imaging you touching yourself**. Her pussy throbbed. He sent a picture, and she gasped. He was cupping himself through his pants, his cock straining through the fabric. She was also impressed. He’d clearly read the guidelines she’d sent him because this was one of the suggestions.

 **I want that inside of me** , she sent.

**Bloody hell, Jemma. I can’t wait to hear you moan my name. Touch yourself now.**

She opened her robe completely and slid her hand down her belly. She was panting. This was much more exciting than she’d imagined. She pressed her fingers to her pussy and circled her clit.

 **I am** , she texted.

**Let me see.**

She wiggled down flat on her back and bent her knees, moving them far apart. With her thumb and middle finger, she spread her labia and pressed her forefinger to her clit. She snapped the photo and was surprised by how aroused she looked. She sent the pic.

Fitz’s reply was quick. **You’re so wet for me. Play with your clit, but imagine it’s my fingers because if I was there, I’d do that even if I was planning on fucking you**.

Jemma gasped as she did as he instructed.

Fitz sent another photo. He’d shoved his trousers down and had his fist around his cock. Dick pics had seemed funny to her until right at that moment. Her hips jerked off the bed, and she moaned. His was lovely and her ideal of length and breadth. It was as if he’d asked her what she preferred in male anatomy. **You’re going to make me come so hard with your cock.**

**I want to make you scream over and over. I wish I was deep in your pussy now instead of using my hand.**

Jemma groaned and rolled her hips. She wished the same thing. Fitz under her. Fitz over her. Behind her. Fitz fucking her hard or gently.

**I want your cock so bad.**

**I want to give it to you.** Her fingers moved fast over her clit. This was really going well. Fitz sent another message. **Can I have a picture of you with your fingers in your pussy?**

Jemma pressed a finger inside herself and moaned. She fumbled with her phone and pressed another finger in, then a third before snapping a pic. Her fingers were a poor substitute for what she wanted, and she returned to rubbing her clit.

 **So hot** , Fitz texted. The idea that her best friend thought her fingers inside her was hot send a wave of desire through her. She always liked impressing Fitz, it was just usually with her brain. That her body excited him was entirely new and it thrilled her to no end.

She sent him a message. **If you were here, how would you want me?**

 **You on top, sliding up and down my prick while I played with your tits**. A picture followed. He was splayed on his back in his bed, his cock in his hand and pointed upward.

Her body clenched. **I want to ride you until you go off like a roman candle.**

 **Yes. Duck, yes.** She giggled at the duck.

 **I want you to get off inside me and pump me full of come.** Jemma hit send, then realized that might be a little weird. She was so turned on and getting close to coming so she’d just said the first thing on her mind.

**I’m going to fill you until you’re overflowing.**

Jemma relaxed. While this was an experiment and they could sit down and talk about mismatched kinks, at the moment she mostly wanted to get off.

Her phone beeped. **Are you close? Because I am.**

 **I’m close, but I want to see you. Can I watch you come?** She ran her fingers over her folds, pushed them a few times inside herself, and then slid them back to her clit.

A video message appeared on her phone. She bit her lip and pressed play. Fitz was sitting on the side of the bed, his hand sliding up and down his cock fast and hard. It was angled upward, towards the camera. His voice was deep and rough. “You’re so fucking sexy Jemma, just a few pics and I’m done for. Oh god.” She watched in fascination as his thighs tightened. “Fuck, Jemma. Jemma!” His cock jerked as he came, his release spurting out is strong pulses. Some ended up on his hand, but most of it hit his stomach, and Jemma’s entire body shuddered as she imagined licking it off.

Her legs quivered, and she hastily turned on the camera, switching it to video. She looked into the lens. “That was excellent, Fitz, quite stimulating. I hope that you don’t mind I’m going to reciprocate.” She moved the camera down her body until it was over her crotch. She tilted her pelvis upwards and fingered her clit, moaning softly.

The image of Fitz’s climax was playing on repeat in her mind. She groaned as her stomach tightened. Her hips bucked up. “Oh, oh my…Fitz!” she groaned as her peak hit her. Shoving her fingers deep into her pussy she moved them roughly in and out as her inner walls pulsed. “Fitz,” she mewled. Her best friend was quickly becoming responsible for all her best orgasms.

Panting, she stopped the video and sent it.

She lay there, her phone on her chest as she let herself bask in the warm glow. Everything felt good. This whole thing was one of the best ideas she’d ever had.

When her phone beeped, she sleepily lifted it while yawning.

**That was beautiful. You’re a work of art.**

When had Fitz gotten so smooth? She sat up, pulled her robe off, and dropped it over the side of the bed. She felt bad for a moment about not hanging it up but was too relaxed and comfortable to do anything about it. Flipping a corner of the covers back, she cozied herself under them and pulled them to her chin.

 **Debrief** , she texted after turning off the bedside lamp. It took Fitz a few minutes to reply.

**That was very enjoyable, much more than I thought it would be. I appreciated all the photos of your body and that you did what I asked. I especially liked you specifying that you wanted me to come inside you. And you?**

She thought for a moment, thrilled that her unplanned comment had been a highlight **. I liked the shot of your cock in your pants. That really turned me on. And the video of you coming while saying my name was perfect. I appreciated it.**

**Glad to be of service.**

Jemma laughed. **I can’t wait to get home tomorrow.**

**Me either.**

****

Jemma lugged her bag out of the airport. Fitz was leaning against the side of the car, but he immediately came and took her luggage.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, putting her things in the boot. He slammed the top down before getting in the driver’s seat. She slumped in the passenger seat with a sigh.

“It’s good to see you too. That trip was exhausting.”

He flicked on the turn signal and pulled away from the curb. “Did the project go well.”

“It went fine beside the people who are working on it are blithering idiots. I am so bloody glad we work together. If I had to put up with that level of incompetence on a daily basis, I’d go insane.”

Fitz chuckled. “It was very boring on Friday without you there.”

“I do make any situation more exciting.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Fitz’s hand, which was deliciously warm, squeezed her knee. He left it there and she covered it with her own. “What do you want for dinner?”

“I thought I’d make us breakfast? Since we didn’t have our usual this morning?”

“I’d like that, especially the part where I don’t cook.”

He squeezed her knee again. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Back at their flat, Fitz carried her luggage up while she went to shower off the dirt from traveling. Feeling much better, she headed to the kitchen, sitting down just as Fitz set a bowl of scrambled eggs on the table. There was toast and cut up fruit as well.

“Thank you,” she said, spooning eggs onto her plate.  She put marmalade on her toast and took a strawberry and kiwi slices from the fruit plate.

She’d eaten a few bites before the Scrabble bag sitting to one side of the butter dish caught her eye.

Fitz had just spooned a large bite of eggs into his mouth when she bumped his knee with hers under the table. “Pick a letter. Hopefully this time there won’t be any odd circumstances.”

He hastily swallowed his mouthful. “Yes, please.”  

With a little squeal, she picked up the bag, undid the top, and held it out to Fitz.  He plunged his hand in and swirled the tiles around a few times before pulling one out. He set it down beside a banana: **J**.


	4. J

Picking apart an intricate, if fire damaged, audio sensor was an excellent occupation on a Thursday afternoon. It was taking a great deal of concentration. Or Fitz wished it would. He snuck a glance at his mobile where it was resting innocently on his workbench.

Jemma was doing an experiment to find the absolute minimum amount of a chemical was needed to detect a certain kind of radiation, which required very specific conditions and she was hovering like a mother hen. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was dressed in a blouse and a pair of black slacks that hugged her hips.

Her back was to him, and he could stare at her arse all he wanted.

Oh, right, sensor. Fitz looked down at it, then at his mobile again, and back at Simmon’s rear.

He dropped the pliers he’d been using and pinched the bridge of his nose.

It’d been a very odd week.

The photos and video Jemma had sent him the previous Saturday had gotten a lot of play since then. Fitz was still stunned that he could, with just a few taps on the phone’s screen, be looking at her pussy.

Or listening to her moan his name while she came.

He’d wanked every night that week watching the video on a loop, instead of figuring out something to do for the letter J.

Sighing, Fitz stuck his phone in his pocket so it wasn’t a temptation and moved to the other side of the bench so his back was to Jemma. He more or less managed to concentrate, dissembling the partially melted innards of the device and sorting the pieces.

As five p.m. neared, Jemma called him over to look at her samples with him. They inspected the results individually, and then compared notes, which were thankfully the same. Jemma made her notations and properly stored everything as he cleaned up his workstation.

The ride home was spent talking about the experiment, which had shown that only a tiny amount of the indicator chemical was needed, and they decided on stir-fry for dinner. Jemma volunteered to cook, which meant there’d be tofu in it, but that was okay.

They walked up to their flat, both freezing at the sight of the inconspicuous box sitting on their welcome mat.

He’d forgotten that their purchases from the adult store were arriving today.

“I’ll just…bring that inside if you can get the door,” he said, picking up the box. It was a little heavier than he’d been expecting, and he grunted as he put it under his arm.

Jemma let them in and locked the door behind them as they kicked their shoes off. He set the box on the kitchen table and flicked open his pocket knife to cut the tape.

Jemma bit her lip and pulled open the box’s flaps. The items were all neatly packed. His cheeks flushed as she removed the first toy from the box, a set of lined handcuffs. What had possessed him to tell her to get that? Seemed very advanced when they were just getting started.

At least Jemma’s cheeks were pink as well. She set them down and quickly unpacked the rest. Fitz spent a while squinting at the nipple clamps before Jemma shoved them back into their bag. He was certain he could improve on the very basic design.

The glass dildo was last, and she cooed over it as she removed it from its packaging.

“Such an excellent choice, Fitz.”

His face had to be bright red. “I’m glad you think it’ll be, um, nice.”

“It’s very different from the one I usually use.” Her hands fluttered as he did a double take. “Yes, well, I suppose I’ll go put this stuff up in my room since that’s where we—” She quickly piled everything into her arms and dashed down the hall.

Fitz blinked after her, still wondering what her regular dildo looked like. And how she used it. Along with how it fit inside her.

They ate dinner in front of the TV, which required less talking and looking at each other than eating at the table. Seemed a good idea after opening the box.

****

Fitz ended up eating his lunch the next day at his desk. He needed to come up with something for Saturday. Jemma was sitting with him, on the other side of the desk, her laptop flipped open. They wolfed down sandwiche as she worked on her report of the previous day’s experiment.

He unlocked his phone, nearly jumping out of his skin when what came up was the picture of Jemma with her fingers buried in her cunt. Hastily, he closed his photos, having forgotten he’d been looking at that earlier. Risking a glance at Jemma, he found her eyes glued to her screen, frowning.

It’d been nearly a week since she’d sent him those tantalizing pictures and video. Little glimpses of her body and how she pleasured herself. Fitz’s mind turned that over and over. Jemma obviously had a way she liked to masturbate, not that he didn’t, but his was fairly straightforward. Lotion and a little rub and tug. Usually, he didn’t even bother with internet porn or sexy pictures.

Er, at least he hadn’t until he had ones of Jemma at his beck and call. Maybe he could keep them after the six months was over.

The scattered pieces of her self-pleasure that he had would be more valuable if he also had the complete picture. There could be a lot he could learn from observing Jemma getting herself off. And there was his J. Jacking-off. Or Jilling-off, he supposed. And it should be mutual masturbation because he doubted Jemma would just let him sit or stand there and watch the show.

Opening his email, he wrote her one.  ‘J=jacking-off. Mutual masturbation so I can learn more about what you like in bed’. He sent it and stuck a crisp in his mouth. 

A soft chime came from Jemma’s laptop. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she opened it. Her eyes went very wide, and she licked her lips as her fingers flew over the keys.

He clicked on her reply. ‘Excellent. Anything you were specifically thinking of?’

Jemma was peeking at him over the top of her screen. He wrote back quickly. ‘Maybe your regular dildo? So I can see your preferences regarding penetration?’

Her computer chimed again. With a squeak, she caught his eye. “Yes, that’s acceptable.”

Fitz leaned back in his chair as he shared a grin with Jemma.

****

Saturday started lazily. Jemma slept in, for her. Fitz had already been up most of an hour before he heard her banging around the kitchen until the tea kettle whistled. She shuffled into his room with two mugs of tea. Yawning, she gave him one before sitting on the foot of his bed. She was still in her striped pajamas.

Fitz was at his desk, going through a Tupperware container full of loose parts to see if he had what he needed to make a prototype of the drone he’d been designing.

“It’s nice not to be working,” she said.

“I hated that you didn’t have any time off, and air travel is always exhausting.”

“Mm, thank you.”

He sipped his tea. “Richard is really into making us work weekends.”

“Everyone has been complaining about it.” Jemma sighed. “Maybe if we all signed a petition or something protesting it, he’d relent.”

“Well, you’d know Milton would agree with you.”

Jemma made a face and felt around until she found one of his pillows to throw at him. She aimed for his legs, which wasn’t a surprise. She wouldn’t risk messing up the top of his desk.

“I’d sign it too,” he said with a shrug. Retrieving the pillow, he tossed it back on the bed.

“I probably wouldn’t. We want to be seen as team players, don’t we? If we want to advance.”

Fitz took a big drink of his tea so he didn’t have to answer. He didn’t want to, not if it meant losing all his free time. Or Jemma being knackered.

She yawned again. “What’s the plan for today?”

“You tell me.” He turned back to the random assortment of parts he was sorting.

“Meet me at two p.m. in my room? That should give us lots of time to get ready.”

“Sounds good.” Fitz was impressed by how steady his voice sounded when he felt like a soda can that’d just been shaken.

Jemma patted his shoulder on the way out, and a few minutes later he heard the shower start. His cock twitched against his thigh as the thought of water beading on her skin. He squirmed in his chair. After poking at the parts halfheartedly for another minute, Fitz sighed and gave up. He stood and opened his closet, trying to decide what to wear.

****

Jemma’s door was closed when he trotted down the hallway right at two.

Fitz knocked.

“Come in!” she called.

The bed was stripped like it had been before, and Jemma was lighting several candles, which gave everything a nice glow. Her bedside lamp was on as well, so at least he wouldn’t fall off the bed.

She had a sheer nightgown on, and he could see her dusky nipples through the fabric. They tightened as she turned to face him, which sent most of his blood running straight for his groin.

“I think less clothing?” Jemma said brightly. “And we can lay facing each other on the bed. I put out the lube so we can use that as needed.”

“G-good thinking.”

Jemma tugged at her nightgown, and it billowed down around her feet like magic. He just stared as his carefully chosen pants became much tighter.

“You too,” she said, smiling.

“Yes! Sorry, um, I was distracted.”

Jemma looked chuffed. She sat on the bed, and her expression turned coy as it roved down his body. “Let me see all of you.”

He felt terribly self-conscious as he pulled his t-shirt off—he’d learned his lesson about buttons—it’d been a lot easier when she’d been on the other end of a phone line. Jemma made a little mewling sound when his hands went to the front of his trousers, and it shocked him that she’d be so interested in his body.

It did make him a little more courageous as he lowered his zip and pushed his trousers and pants down his legs. His cock was already achingly hard, so at least he didn’t have to worry about that. He straightened up and found that Jemma was studying his erection and licking her lips. At a loss for anything else to do, he sat on the edge of the bed.

Jemma got onto her knees and scooted close enough to him to run her hands over his back. “Lie down,” she said. “And move all the way onto the bed.”

He did as told, rolling on his side towards her. Jemma was kneeling with her hands on her thighs. She tapped her fingers rapidly, something she only did when nervous. Knowing Jemma wasn’t cool as a cucumber made him feel a lot better. Relaxing, he propped his head on his hand and ran his fingers over his cock.

Jemma’s eyes followed the movement.

“Get comfortable,” he said. “And let me see this dildo.”

She lay down on her back, one knee bent, and leaned over to open the drawer of her bedside table. She handed the dildo to him with a sheepish look.

Fitz studied it. He supposed it was meant to be realistic, based on the feel, shape, and color. To his relief, it wasn’t all that big. If she was used to some ten-inch monster, he hadn’t been sure how he was going to live up to that, but this one was maybe half that. It had an unrealistic set of balls at its base and a suction cup. For the shower, he guessed, and wondered if she ever used it that way.

He passed it back to Jemma. “Start touching yourself, how you usually do.” It was a little brazen of him, but he was getting desperate to see her.

Setting the dildo down on her other side, she swept her hands over her belly and cupped her breasts. He noted how her fingers pinched her nipples. Jemma moaned softly and arched her back. “What about you?” she asked.

Fitz glanced down to where he was very slowly sliding a loose fist up and down his hard-on. “You’re pretty much looking at it.”

“As a man, and therefore visual when it comes to sex, you’d usually be in your chair to watch porn on your computer, wouldn’t you?”

Fitz was confused by the question. “Not really. I’ve got a pretty good imagination.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I never do, I got a few favorites, but usually I’m just trying to scratch the itch so I can get to sleep or back to whatever I’m doing.” Her mouth was a little round ‘o’ of shock. “Not that I don’t very much like watching you right now.” He returned his attention to how her hands were kneading her breasts. Her fingers drew out her nipple, and he groaned. “Are you wet?”

Her expression became cheeky. “Why don’t you look?”

The bed shook as he clambered to his knees so he could see her pussy. She parted her legs more, and the slickness shone in the candlelight. One of the candles must be scented because besides the faint tang of her arousal, he could also smell apples and cinnamon. It was very homey.

One of Jemma’s hands trailed down to rub at her clit. Fitz estimated the speed she moved in rpms along with the diameter of the circle she was making.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Yes.” She sounded breathy, and her eyes weren’t quite focused. “I can usually come quickly like this.”

“What about the dildo?” His cock was rigid, and it was tempting to push her hands out of the way and sink into her, but that wasn’t what they were doing today.

“About now is usually when I use it, yes.”

“Go ahead.”

Jemma picked up the dildo, along with the bottle of plain lube. He held his hand out, and she dumped some in his palm before pouring it on her toy. She positioned it at her entrance, and his cock jerked as she pushed it into herself all in one motion with a low groan.

“Christ, Jemma, that’s hot.”

She moaned in answer, her hips lifting off the bed as she circled her clit with one hand and used the other to slowly fuck herself with the dildo. Fitz’s hand was firm on his cock as he wanked to the sights and sounds of his lab partner frigging herself.

The wet noise of the toy sliding in and out of her body was more erotic than it had any right to be.

“Move to where I can see you,” she gasped, and he wiggled around until she had a good view of him yanking on his prick. “Oh, Fitz,” she whispered with her eyes fixed on his hand and cock.

She moved the toy faster and mewled, rolling her hips. Her entire chest was flushed, and her breasts were jiggling.

“You’re so amazing,” he said, his eyes darting between her tits and pussy. Part of his mind was cataloging the angle she had the dildo ramming into her at, and how the duration and force of the trusts changed as she neared climax. Things he hadn’t been able to see on the video, like how her belly tightened, or the ticking of her thigh muscle right above her knee, were delicious. “Come, Jems.”

She slammed the dildo deep inside her a half dozen more times and gasped as she peaked. He forgot everything else as her face filled with bliss, her body heaved with it, and her pussy milked the dildo. She made pleasured, inarticulate noises, her eyes on him as she shuddered through her orgasm.

At last, she relaxed against the bed and pulled the toy from her body. It was coated with her cream. Fitz’s hips jerked forward roughly, and he groaned. Ah, yes, he was still getting himself off.

Jemma pulled a tissue from the box beside her bed and set the dildo on it, then shakily got to her knees. “My legs are a little wobbly,” she said with a laugh, her eyes fixed on what he was doing. It wasn’t going to be much longer before he came.

“Um, going to…uh, I’m going to need one of those tissues soon.” He hoped that sounded enough like a question for her to hand him one.

“No worries. I want to see. I’ll be washing this sheet anyway.” She gestured to where she been lying. There was a wet spot, and his cock bucked at the evidence of her pleasure. He started wanking in earnest as Jemma shuffled towards him. “Can I put my hand on yours? To feel your grip?”

“Urg,” he managed, and she gave him a puzzled frown. “Yes!” He choked out. Her breasts were close, the nipples still hard, and the freckles were a siren song begging for his mouth. He slowed down his hand with a whimper and Jemma moved even closer to him, her fingers brushing over and then closing around his on his cock. He bowed his head and pressed his forehead to hers, his gaze fixed on where Jemma’s hand curled around his.

His hips stuttered as he fucked his fist. Jemma’s belly was right by the head of his cock, and the entire view was framed by her tits. He could feel more than hear the tiny moans she was making. But it was the sight of his cock sliding through his fist with her pale hand on his, that sent him hurtling over the edge.

“Jemma,” he gasped as his body pulsed with ecstasy. He spurted his load onto their hands and her belly and thighs. Jemma made a delighted sound and shock joined the relief from coming as Jemma let go of him and raised the hand that was streaked with come to her mouth and licked it, her eyes closing as she smiled.

He thought his legs were going to give out and he flopped backward. Only the edge of the bed wasn’t where he was expecting it to be and he had a moment of vertigo before he ended up on his back on the floor with a bang.

“Bloody hell,” he groaned, opening his eyes to find Jemma looking over the edge of the bed at him.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, my ass and my ego are bruised, but I’ll live.”

She studied him for a moment, but her face disappeared as she started giggling. Terrific, he’d just come all over her, she was laughing, and he was on the floor. Jemma hopped off the bed and held her hand out. He took it and stood, sighing heavily.

“What happened?” she asked.

“You were licking…and it was overwhelming, and I went to sit, but ended up going ass over teakettle off the edge instead.”

“Ah, it was my fault.” She giggled again.

“Yes, you’re too blasted sexy, Simmons. You should have a hazard label.”

Jemma flushed, but then pushed up against him and wrapped her arms around him, snuggling against his chest. His arms hung uselessly at his side until he got it together enough to hug her back. She sighed, sounding very happy. “Debrief?”

“You go first.”

“Well, that was something I’ve never thought of doing before, masturbating in front of another person. It was much more awkward than sending pictures with the phone. I was surprised by how nervous I was.”

“I was nervous too.”

She pressed a kiss to his neck. “But you were so obviously enjoying what I was doing that I was very aroused, even though still felt nervous. I meant to say sexy things, and I should have praised your body a great deal more.” She pushed back from him and straightened up.

“Simmons, you’re fine. I know I’m not exactly cut.”

She tsked. “Honestly, Fitz. I find you very attractive. Nice shoulders, narrow hips, lovely face, and you have this heavenly treasure trail—” She ran a finger down the dark hair that led south from his navel that he didn’t think about much. “That leads right to your very nice prick.” He pulled her back against him before she could get a real good look at his softened cock. “I think it’s handsome and that I will enjoy you using it on me a great deal.”

“Thank you.” He cast around for something else to say. “I learned a great deal about your body, from watching you use your dildo, and I appreciate you were willing to do that for me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You hand on mine really set me off,” he added, thinking she most likely wanted to hear stuff like that.

She kissed his neck again. “It was really hot, wasn’t it?”

“You thought so too?”

“Yes, of course. As was watching you come.”

He hummed softly and held her close. Hugging Jemma was quickly becoming one of his favorite things in the world.

****

The next morning, Fitz yawned as he woke to the smell of bacon.

That was unusual. Jemma barely put up with sausage. He pulled his jumper on and wandered out to find her humming along with whatever NPR was playing as she made their breakfast.

He put an arm around her shoulders and Jemma leaned back briefly into the hug.

“Juice in the fridge,” she said, and he pulled out the orange juice and set it on the table before getting a couple of glasses down.

The syrup was already sitting on the table, right next to the Scrabble bag.

Fitz set the table, then took the bag over to where Jemma was draining the bacon on a paper towel.

“I must have done something right to get bacon,” he said.

She grinned at him. “You do everything right. You even fall off the bed right.”

 Fitz groaned and stuck the bag out towards her. “My arse still hurts.”

“I’ll kiss it better later,” she said with a laugh.

Fitz didn’t have a comeback for that, and couldn’t think of anything to say before Jemma reached into the Scrabble bag, grabbed a letter, and held it cupped in the palm of her hand: **H.**


	5. H

The ancient copy machine whined and thunked as it slowly spit out duplicates of the report she and Fitz had collaborated on detailing how the sensor miniaturization project was going. Some of the project was easy, some of it was impossibly difficult, but Jemma was sure they’d eventually find solutions that no one else would. Though what they were going to do with the tiny sensors was more of a mystery. Except for the audio devices. It’d be nice to have a fully functioning audio transmitter that looked like a tie pin.

She yawned.

It was only Thursday, which left until tomorrow for her to come up with a sex act for H. Mostly she’d been thinking along the lines of hard, and wondered if she could simply tell Fitz to get hard and let her play with his erection. That would be enjoyable, tasting and touching it, riding him into the mattress.

She sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes. The copier was ancient but at just the right height so she could bend over it. That idea had her mind spinning into a fantasy where Fitz came into the tiny copy room, shut the door, and immediately grabbed her. He would say he couldn’t wait, and that he was going to take her right then and there, hard.

Jemma pressed her thighs together.

His cock would certainly ease the growing ache in her pussy.

A high-pitched laugh jolted her out of her daydream.

There was a group of people in the corridor who didn’t seem to be aware she was in the copy room. Jemma made a face. Was that Sherri? Didn’t she have sociology data to process or something, and why was she talking to Milton? This wasn’t good.

Eavesdropping was also not good, but since she was technically a spy, Jemma had been trained to do that and should practice her skills.

“Dating was so much easier when we were teenagers,” Sherri said.

Milton hemmed in agreement. “I was the school nerd, and even I got jerked off in the backseat of a car by a girl.”

Jemma chewed her lip. She’d been the nerd. At the Academy with Fitz when she’d been secondary school age. She knew, intellectually, that she’d missed out on a lot of regular teenage experiences because of her academic accomplishments, but that didn’t bother her. Usually.

Somehow seeing her and Fitz’s exes being snide over it made her feel…lacking.

The other people with them laughed, and one patted Milton’s back.

“At least it was usually clear what was happening,” said a bloke who was wearing a badge that listed him as being in GIS. He shoved his glasses up his nose with a finger. “If people were going steady, getting to third base, whatever, they’d tell you.”

“Yeah,” Sherri huffed. “None of this roommates, boys and girls living together, undefined, modern mumbo jumbo.”

Jemma knew she was making a face. Modern? Sherri had to be 24 at the most. Honestly. The group moved further down the hall and Jemma couldn’t hear them anymore. It was a good thing Fitz had dumped that girl. Jemma knew he’d learn far more from having sex with her than he ever could from Sherri.

Wait, hadn’t Sherri dumped him?

It didn’t matter. Fitz was going to be with Jemma that weekend. That was what was important. Sherri could keep her obviously heat damaged brown hair and poor fashion choices far away from Jemma’s boyfr—from Fitz.

She grabbed her finally-completed copies from the printer and stormed back to the lab, making Fitz jump as she entered.

He grabbed her arm as she walked by. “Everything okay?”

Jemma sighed. “I think so. I just…sometimes do you think about everything you missed out on because you went to uni so early?”

His brows drew together. “Like being stuffed in lockers?”

“Not what I was going for. I meant being around people your own age and the like.”

Fitz shook his head. “I was better for me being at uni.”

She touched his cheek. “Then I’m glad. I hate to think of anyone hurting you.”

Walking to her workbench, Jemma couldn’t help but imagine that it wouldn’t have all been bad to make out under the bleachers or hold hands in the hallway between classes. As long as she was with the right person.

****

The thoughts were still there the next day. All the sleepovers Jemma had never been to. The movie dates and dances she’d missed.

In her mind, it was always Fitz right there with her, though she knew he’d hate an American prom. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t try to capture a little bit of the feeling.

Sitting at her desk, she closed her spreadsheet and opened her email. It was April, and she had a message about an Earth Day sale. Really? And it was for trucks. Who celebrated Earth Day by buying a 4x4? She didn’t understand Americans.

Jemma deleted the message and started a new one to Fitz. ‘Do you remember me asking yesterday about missing out on traditional teen things?’

His reply came quickly. He was working in the lab on assembling a prototype but must have his mobile right beside him. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘Do you think we could go on a date tomorrow? Like a teen-date. Comfort food, driving out somewhere to park under the stars?’ Comfort food wasn’t exactly what she meant, but fast food wasn’t acceptable in her vocabulary. Though a chocolate malt shake sounded good. Her hand hovered over the button a minute before she hit send.

Maybe she should have clarified it wasn’t a date-date? It was still a part of their agreement. And there was supposed to be some lovely places to drive around Boston that both of them had been too busy or tired to explore. This would be an excellent opportunity.

Fitz’s return message appeared. ‘Sure, but let me do the planning. You’ve got enough going on. I am confused about how this connects to H?’

Bollocks, she’d forgotten to include that part. ‘We’d give each other hand jobs while we’re parked’. That seemed to be what teens did.

‘I like your ideas’.

Jemma smiled at her screen and tapped the toes of her shoes against the floor in excitement. She could hardly wait.

****

The weather cooperated on Saturday, and Jemma sat on the flat’s tiny balcony and caught up on some reading. Fitz had disappeared very early, for him on a weekend, and she supposed he was arranging things. It was driving her barmy that he wouldn’t tell her anything.

Surprises could be good, but she was terrible at waiting on them.

Her mobile beeped with a text. **I’ll pick you up at 11:30.**

It was nearly eleven. Jemma rushed back inside, dropped her journals on the counter, and started getting ready. She’d stopped by a used clothing store on Friday night and bought several things while Fitz had waited in the car and texted someone. She couldn’t wait to show him the pretty blue knee-length skirt she’d found, that twirled just right.

It was tempting to go without knickers, for the surprise, but she chickened out and shimmied on a pair of cute lace ones. She had sensible flats, a nice white blouse with cap sleeves, and she tied her hair up into a high ponytail.

Finishing just before eleven thirty, she double checked the bag she’d packed, which included things like hand sanitizer, Kleenex, the warming lube, and a few crackers as a snack for Fitz in case he needed it.

Her phone pinged right on time. **I’m here.**

She locked up and hurried down, then stopped dead when she caught sight of Fitz. It wasn’t their little two-door sedan he was leaning against. It was more of a land yacht, but the cream and cherry red car with the tail fins looked like it was out of a movie.

“Fitz! What is it? You’ve outdone yourself!” She glanced at him. “And what are you wearing?”

His hair was its usual mop of curls, but he had blue jeans and a black and white checkered button-up on, and a black tie. And a black leather jacket. It wasn’t ostentatious and looked lived in.

“Um, there’s a guy we work with.” Fitz’s fingers fluttered. “And his grandfather likes old cars. I set up to rent one for the day. The guy was really nice, even if he talked my ear off. He asked me if there was a girl involved so I said yes. He disappeared inside and gave me this jacket. He said it didn’t fit him anymore, but that it was good luck. Then there was a lot of winking.”

Jemma laughed. “How lovely? And the car?”

“It’s a restored 1957 Chevy Bel Air. It’s modernized, so I don’t have to try and drive a 1950s standard transmission.” He patted the roof. “I have the afternoon all planned out. Ready to go?”

Jemma nodded, and he ran around to the other side of the car to open the door for her.

They drove south out of the city, Jemma rolling her window to enjoy the sweet spring air.

The first stop was, of all things, a drive-in restaurant.

“Very appropriate for the car and the jacket,” she said.

Fitz grinned. “And for you. I haven’t told you yet how lovely you look.”

“Thank you.” She smoothed her hands over the skirt. “I like how much fun it feels to be off doing something non-work related.”

“No kidding. This project is a nightmare.” He immediately waved his hand. “But I don’t want to even complain about it right now. See anything on the menu?”

Undoing her seatbelt, she scooted across the bench seat until she was pressed against Fitz so she could read the menu. It was all burgers and chips, which did not sound good. Nobody should eat any of that, ever.

“I’m guessing that face means no.” Fitz sounded amused.

“It’s all a bit greasy for me. Though I will have a small chocolate malt, please.”

“You sure you don’t want any food? I’m going to have a burger.”

Jemma poked his side. “Don’t come crying to me when your arteries are clogged.”

“Promise I won’t, but I guessed you wouldn’t find much.” He reached into the backseat, rummaged around, and handed her a plastic bag. Inside was a little tray with cut up veggies, pretzel chips, and hummus.

She looked back up at Fitz, but had to wait as he placed the order. When he was done, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. This is very thoughtful.”

“I didn’t want my best girl going hungry.”

She giggled. “I don’t want to know where you heard that one.” Fitz rolled his eyes.

When a bored-looking carhop brought Fitz his food, Jemma dug in. It was good, and she was going to need to ask him where he’d gotten the tray. Fitz was scarfing down his burger.

“Those chips smell delicious,” she said. The warm fried scent was filling the car.

“You can’t have any.” Fitz glared at her.

She reached over and snared a chip from the basket that was perched on the dash and shoved it in her mouth. It was amazing. Crisp and salty. She moaned.

“Okay, you can have all of them.” Fitz was looking wide-eyed at her.

“Just a few.” She didn’t think that would hurt.

The basket was almost empty when she remembered she still had hummus and carrots. She ate them, then washed it down with her shake.

“Great idea for lunch,” she told Fitz when he returned from taking their rubbish to the bin.

“We’re just getting started.”

He drove them to the Blue Hills Reservation Observation tower, which had amazing views, and that was followed by an easy walk through the forest. Everything was bursting with new life. Squirrels darted through tree branches covered with young, green leaves. Birds chirped and bees buzzed as they flew from blossoming spring flower to blossoming spring flower.

It was a wonderful afternoon, and Fitz held her hand while they walked and she narrated about the plant and animal species. It felt like a real date.

As evening approached, they returned to the car and Fitz drove slowly down a quiet road, tall trees on either side. When they passed a little gravel offshoot, Fitz stopped the car and backed it up until he could drive down the trail. They reached a clearing, the trees giving way to a dark sky where the first stars were appearing. He stopped the car and turned off the engine, which pinged as it cooled.

Her heart sped up. She was parking with Fitz.

Unbuckling himself, Fitz slid towards her. He fiddled with the radio, finding something melodic and jazzy as she undid her seatbelt. She scooted over towards him.

“It’s been a nice day,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

Fitz took her hand and interwove his fingers with hers. “I’ve had a good time. And you were right. This kind of stuff I am sad I missed out on. Only not, because now I’m sharing it with you.”

She very badly wanted to kiss him. He was so sweet, but they weren’t really on a date. Jemma didn’t know why that made her feel disappointed. Maybe she could do this again when she met someone who she’d like to marry. Very far in the future. She didn’t really want to think about it.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” she said. “And I very much appreciate you getting an auto with bench seats.” She slowly lifted a leg to hook over his knee. “I brought the warming lube,” she said, tilting her head back against the seat. Fitz slumped down and did the same.

“Excellent, your hands are always freezing.”

She laughed, but it turned into a moan as Fitz palmed her breast.

“Can I touch under your shirt and bra?” he asked.

“Yes, I’d like that.” She undid the buttons of her blouse and reached behind herself to undo her bra.

Fitz splayed his hand on her stomach then inched his fingers up towards her breast. He slid his hand between the cup and her skin, and one finger traced the curve of her breast from her ribs to her nipple.

She gasped.

Fitz’s eyes were laser focused on her chest as his finger circled her nipple. She moaned. This was torture, but the best kind.

“You feel so good,” Fitz said, voice rough. His entire hand went under her bra, and he cupped her breast as his thumb flicked the tip. She closed her eyes.

“Your hands feel much better than mine,” she mumbled. Fitz didn’t respond, but shifted slightly and she followed his lead, ending up on her back. He pulled her bra up, and his other hand joined in. His fingers played with her nipples, the pleasure traveling straight to her core in jolts of hot desire.

When he stopped and let go of her, Jemma whimpered. But there wasn’t time to protest before Fitz hitched forward and his mouth closed around a nipple. The yelp she gave was completely involuntary, as was the jerk of her hips.

“Oh, Fitz,” she moaned, threading her hands into his hair. She opened her eyes to look at him, his face radiating pure bliss as he mouthed her breast.

The touch of his fingers on her thigh made her gasp. He trailed his hand up to her pussy, then stroked over the lace.

“You so wet, Jemma,” he moaned against her breast. “I feel it through your ruddy knickers.”

“You’re doing an excellent job of…stimulating my breasts.”

He grunted something, but he’d already returned to sucking on her nipple, and she didn’t know what he’d said. However, she wasn’t about to make him stop and repeat himself.

His fingers traced the line between her hip and pussy, then slid underneath the lace.

Jemma gasped.

He traced her folds, circled her clit, and then pushed a finger inside her.

It felt so damn good, but it was all very one-sided. Jemma was at an odd angle, laying sprawled against the seat with Fitz half on top of her. She stroked his side under his coat, then glided her hand down his belly to the front of his jeans.

He was hard, his erection straining against the denim.

Fitz moaned and pushed into her hand, but then cursed. “Fuck, Jemma, that’s kind of distracting.”

She giggled and increased the pressure of her fingers as she ran them up and down his prick.

“You’re not helping,” he grumbled.

“I’m not trying to. I’m trying to get my hand on your penis.” She undid the button of his jeans and lowered his zip. Fitz retaliated by sinking to fingers deep inside her, angled just right—oh, he really had been paying attention last week—and his thumb flicked her clit.

Her hips jerked, and she fumbled for a moment before she found his waistband and sat up enough to push his jeans and shorts down over his bum. The availability of that part of his anatomy caught her attention, and even as she mewled and rocked against his fingers, she grabbed his rear.

It felt perfect, taunt and the right shape for her to cup. It was going to be fantastic to hang onto when Fitz was rogering her.

Fitz looked up at her. He was panting. “You want to tell me why you just doused my fingers?”

“I like your arse.”

His brows shot up, and he glanced over his shoulder with a frown.

“Take my word for it,” she said with a laugh.

Fitz shrugged and switched to tonguing the other breast.

Jemma felt around with the hand not grabbing Fitz for her bag. She found the lube and had to finally let go of his ass so she could squeeze some onto her palm. Once it started to feel warm, she reached between their bodies and wrapped her hand around his cock.

Fitz groaned, and his prick twitched in her fist. For long moments she simply held him. It was odd to have her hand on Fitz’s penis, of all people. He was very hard, but the skin was soft, and she appreciated the contrast. Every nerve she had was on high alert, goaded on by the glide of his fingers in and out of her pussy and the sweep of his thumb over her clit. He was moving at the perfect tempo, and it made her feel warm to know how much he cared to have memorized how she touched herself.

Fitz was a good friend.

Her hand swept up and down his shaft. Fitz made a choked noise, and he rested his brow against her breast, his breathing harsh.

His cock was a delight to touch, and she wanked him slowly, enjoying the feel of him. Every swipe of her palm against him drove her own pleasure higher. Giving was just as good as receiving.

Her belly coiled as a climax neared. “Fitz,” she whispered. “I’m close.”

“I can feel,” he said. “Your body tightens up, and you get this dreamy look.”

Her thighs quivered, and Fitz made the circles of his thumb firmer. She tried to keep up with the hand on his cock but ended up just holding him as she peaked. She arched off the seat and squeaked, her hips jerking in uncoordinated pulses.

When she could open her eyes again, it was to find Fitz laughing.

“That was the most adorable noise,” he said. Jemma sighed, then tightened her grip on his cock. His laughter became a groan. “Let me get into a better position,” he hissed, and Jemma let him go as he sat back on the seat, his jeans around his knees. She sat up, put more of the lube on her hand, and fisted him again. Her strokes were as much like his as she could remember.

“Just a little…” His hand closed around hers and tightened her grip. It was the inverse of the previous week, and Jemma bit her lip as a moan escaped. Fitz’s hand went to the seat. “You're doing it just right, Jems. I don’t think…I’m not going to last much longer.”

Drat, she’d forgotten to get out the tissue. Spying a leftover napkin on the dash, she reached over and nabbed it.

Fitz didn’t seem to be aware of anything but her hand on his cock.

She added a little twist on the upstroke and Fitz gasped and thrust into her fist. Pleased, she continued the motion. Fitz braced his feet and grunted, humping her hand with abandon.

It made her feel powerful, to be giving him this much pleasure.

“Jemma,” he groaned. “So good. You always feel so good…fuck, I’m going to…Jemma!” The last was a yell, and she barely managed to direct the pulses of semen into the napkin. She continued to stroke him through his orgasm and thrilled at the animalistic noises he made.

When he sagged against the seat, she wadded up the napkin and tucked it into her bag.

Fitz pulled her onto his lap, his arms hugging her and his face against her shoulder. She looped an arm around his neck while her other hand ran through his hair. It was tempting to doze off safe and secure in Fitz’s arms, but an alarm beeped on his phone.

“We have to start back so I can return the car,” he said sadly as he turned off the alarm. “It’s been a good day.”

“It really has.” She returned to her seat, wish the day didn’t have to end. She rearranged her clothes while Fitz did the same. He started the engine and turned the car around.

Once they were back on the main road, Fitz glanced towards her. “What kind of name is Chickatawbut?”

It was the name of the road they were on. There’d been several signs. “Seventeenth-century indigenous leader.” She’d done a lot of reading about the area when they’d first moved to Boston.

“Oh.”

“Sorry, no jokes there.”

Fitz shook his head. “But we should debrief.”

“We should.” Jemma had been feeling so warm and floaty that she’d almost forgotten. “Um…it was an excellent day. Exactly what I wanted. The car is a nice touch, and it made our sexual activity easier. I enjoyed both your hands and mouth on my breasts, and I was grateful for the fact you remembered things from the previous week and applied them here. Also, your penis is very nice, and the feel of it in my hand was extremely erotic.”

Fitz coughed. “Ah…good. That’s good. I appreciated the warming lube, after being outside your hands were chilly, which I knew from you putting them on my bum.”

“It’s a nice bum.”

He grinned. “Thank you. A highlight was you becoming more turned on by touching me. And the little twist while you stroked me was nice. Really, the whole day was wonderful. I liked walking with you. You’re very knowledgeable about the local flora and fauna.”

“Thank you.” She was fizzy inside. With Fitz, there was no rush to do things, no need to be perfect or prove herself. Fitz made everything easier and more enjoyable. “I don’t think I would have liked doing that, getting handsy in a car, with anyone else.” She leaned against the door, her hand between her head and the glass. “If you don’t know somebody well, or didn’t understand their body, things could go quite badly. It’s a terrible choice for completely sexually inexperienced teens.”

“Hand jobs in cars: not for beginners.”

“Exactly.”

“You should put that on a shirt.”

“And where would I wear this to?” She looked at him and raised a brow. Fitz was smiling.

“To the local footie match.”

She snorted.

They dropped the car off, and the elderly gentleman insisted on Fitz keeping the jacket, to which Jemma had agreed. It did fit him very well.

They left in their sedan.

“Feels cramped now,” Fitz grumbled.

“But it gets more than ten miles a gallon.”

“True.”

“I liked the other one too. Maybe we can borrow it again someday. And you were right, that man winks an awful lot.”

“Told you.”

****

Jemma woke on Sunday morning and stretched. She wished Fitz was in bed with her, because he’d still be asleep, and then she’d have a reason to stay curled up.

There was a noise from the kitchen.

Surprised, Jemma sat up. It was still fairly early, so she hastily put on track pants and a t-shirt and went to investigate.

Fitz was sitting at the kitchen table, a pad of paper in front of him with a half-finished schematic for one of his drones on it.

“Good morning!” he said, his eyes shining.

Jemma yawned. “Good morning. What are you doing up?”

“I slept like a rock, then woke up with a great idea based on the sensor miniaturization we’re doing. I think I can miniaturize parts of the drone’s engine and make the entire drone much smaller than I’d planned at first.” He bent over his schematic. “And since I was up, I made French Toast Casserole. But I only now put it in the oven, so you might want yogurt or something to tide you over.”

She shuffled to the fridge, grabbed a cup of vanilla yogurt, found a spoon in the dishwasher, and sat across from Fitz.

Still sleepy, she lazily swirled her spoon in the yogurt and slowly licked it off. She stared at Fitz’s fingers moving as he worked.

He had such clever hands.

She lapped at another spoonful, but on the third, Fitz stopped what he was doing, stood, and returned to drop the Scrabble bag on the table. “I’m going to pick one.”

Jemma nodded, going after the last drops of yogurt on her spoon.

Watching her, he reached in and took one out.

“What if it’s the blank one?” she asked.

Fitz shrugged as she licked at another spoonful.

He set the tile down on the table: **B**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone did a great job of guessing this week! I'm thinking next week won't be a challenge either...but the one after that... ;-)


	6. B

He was going to ruddy kill Richard.

Not actually, but Fitz was fairly done with his boss. And his week at work. It’d been one setback after another, and Richard had just called him into his office to berate him about a lack of progress. Jemma had slipped in as Fitz’s face had grown warm with fury, she’d put a hand on his shoulder and explained to Richard that their tight budget and the general disrepair of the sensors they’d been given was slowing them down.

Richard had seethed and sent them on their way, demanding results.

Currently, Fitz stood hunched over his workbench, magnifying glasses on as he teased out wires in a thermal scanner. It was tedious work, but he needed to replicate it exactly on a smaller scale, so needed to understand how the current design worked.

It was making him grumpy, and his stomach was growling, and thank god it was Friday.

Somebody must be breathing down Richard’s neck, and he was passing the buck.

Well, fuck him. And he couldn’t even complain to Jemma as she’d been pulled away to assist with some bio shite.

“Hey, Fitz.”

His head snapped up, and he lifted his glasses for a second. “Hi, Sherri.” Talk about the last person he wanted to see. Fitz went back to poking at the thermal sensor. Maybe she’d take the hint and bugger off but, like always, she didn’t.

“Fitz,” she said again, from much closer, and her hand brushed his arm, which made him jump and drop the wire he’d been teasing out of place.

With a sigh, he straightened up and ripped off the magnifiers. “What?”

“So grumpy.”

Fitz squinted at her. She had a lot more makeup on than usual. And was that perfume? Her dark hair hung in waves instead of being in her customary bun. “It’s almost lunch.”

She giggled, instead of rolling her eyes like she usually did when he mentioned his stomach.

“Can you cut to the chase? I’m bloody busy, and Richard has it out for me this week.” He’d gone home exhausted every night, and Jemma must be too since she’d agreed to more take-out than normal.

Sherri smiled and put a hand on his chest. “I’ve been missing you, Fitz. I realize I might have been a bit…hasty, when I broke up with you. What if we gave things another try? There’s a new exhibit at the museum about spy history, and I thought you might like to go. I hear they have all kind of gadgets.”

Fitz stared at her. Was she insane? “You stuck me outside in the cold in nothing but my pants.” What had he ever seen in her? She didn’t hold a candle to Jemma in any department. Especially the brains department. How had he dealt with talking sociology?

“As I said, I was hasty.” She looked at him and batted her eyes. Fitz felt nothing.

“Not happening. I’m busy.” He slapped the magnifiers back in place and bent over the sensor. Though it wasn’t electronics floating through his mind, but Jemma’s sweet voice talking about diagramming circuits with a biochem component. Well, that and her tits.

“That’s what I thought,” Sherri snapped and flounced out. Fitz frowned at her back. Had she said something he’d missed? He pulled off the magnifiers again and dropped them on the bench. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he scowled at the sensor.

“Fitz!” Richard yelled as he stormed into the lab. “Are you still working on that thermal sensor?”

“Yeah, it’s blasted difficult.”

“I thought you were genius?”

“That doesn’t mean I can work a miracle. If you’d spring for a holo-engineering table—”

“Not that claptrap again. Write Fury a letter. I need results soon, I have to secure funding for the summer, and I can’t pay you and Jemma to tinker.”

“It’s not tinkering!” The man was bloody denser than a fruitcake and twice as nutty.

“If you want to do something besides fix broken field gear, it better not be. I want to have something concrete by the end of next week, or this isn’t going to be your lab anymore. People like you are a dime a dozen.”

Richard left, and Fitz put his hands on his hips as he stared at the sensor.

His stomach growled, and he ripped off his lab coat and headed for the lunch room. He rooted in the fridge but didn’t see his usual bag. Or any bag that belonged to him or Jemma.

He could clearly remember seeing them on the counter that morning, but he couldn’t remember putting them in the fridge.

Crap, they were still at home.

Crap, crap, crap.

He slammed the fridge door closed. He had a quarter in his pocket. Double crap. Stomping to his office, he sat at his desk and fumed.

Nothing was going his way.

Taking out his mobile, he opened his email. There was one from Jemma, asking what he wanted for Saturday. As if he’d had time to think.

B….B…Boobs? Breasts? Backside?

Ugh.

There was one thing he that might make him feel better. Jemma could always veto.

He sent the email: ‘Blowjob’.

The reply was immediate. ‘Excellent choice. I’ve been hoping you’d pick that’.

She had? Fitz felt blindsided, but he was smiling for the first time that day.

Another email from Jemma popped up. ‘We left out lunches at home, but don’t worry, I have granola bars and animal crackers in my desk. I’ll be in your office in three minutes’.

Fitz laughed. Jemma was the best.

****

Fitz was cleaning the oven. He hadn’t meant to do that. Who the hell ever wanted to clean an oven? It wasn’t even that dirty, but after his first cup of tea Saturday morning it’d dawned on him that Jemma was going to have his prick in her mouth later that day and he’d been off kilter ever since.

She’d gone out with friends for brunch again, which was fine. Good.

He bloody well needed to stop imagining her licking her lips and going after his cock.

There were a lot of salient points they were going to have to discuss before then, like swallowing. He needed to know that ahead of time so he could give her warning if she didn’t want to. It would be fair if she wasn’t interested in drinking everything he spurted at her. He certainly didn’t want Jemma to feel like he was demanding her to.

When the oven was sparkling, he went and showered the grease off himself, resolutely not thinking about Jemma pushing him against the shower wall and going to her knees. He shaved and brushed his teeth.

When he went back to the kitchen, there was a message on his mobile.

**Sorry, I’ll be late, one of the girls is having a meltdown.**

He texted an acknowledgment, which he didn’t think sounded grouchy, even though he was. His week had been terrible. He’d just cleaned the bloody oven. He was wearing nice clothes, after making sure his bits were squeaky clean, and Jemma was going to be late.

Ugh.

Fitz fidgeted, his knee jiggling. He couldn’t even be mad. Jemma was being nice and helping a friend.

He crossed his arms, and sagged back on the couch, blowing out a breath. Wasn’t he also her friend that need…not exactly help, he just needed her. Which was entirely an uncharitable thought. What had gotten into him? Closing his eyes, he tried to quiet his mind. He started counting backward from five hundred by sevens.

The door slamming startled Fitz awake. How long had he been out? Jemma was muttering under her breath. She stormed into the living room.

“Sorry, Fitz. It was Molly from statistics. She had a bad breakup and wouldn’t stop sobbing into her omelet. I couldn’t get away without looking like an arse, but she wouldn’t shut up. I can see why her boyfriend left.”

“Uh—” Fitz wasn’t sure if he was supposed to agree or not.

Jemma was working herself up. “Honestly. They just needed to talk. It was so obvious. There weren’t any of the big issues, like cheating, it was all communication. I had to bite my lip while making appropriate sympathetic sounds instead of telling her that if she’d simply told her ex how she felt, then they would still be together.”

Jemma’s eyes were flashing, and her slightly curled hair was flying around her shoulders. She looked gorgeous, with her face flushed and anger making her eyes snap.

It was a massive turn on. Fitz gaped at her as she paced back and forth in front of the couch. His cock was filling, and lust was sizzling trough him.

“I don’t understand. I just don’t. Not that I suppose I haven’t been there. It can be difficult to speak up when there’s a lot of feelings involved, especially if you think you’re going to hurt the other person.” She stopped pacing and turned towards Fitz. He could barely breathe as she fixed him with a glare. “I’m glad we are not like that and can freely communicate our needs.”

“Merg,” he said, which he hoped Jemma would realize was agreement.

“We are doing okay, aren’t we Fitz?” Her arms hung at her sides. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you? What do you want, Fitz?”

His eyes fixed on her tits, which were lovingly outlined by her blouse, as he tried to make his mouth work. What did he want? He wanted…er…”I want you to suck me off!” he said since that was the most pressing thought. He groaned inwardly as soon as he said it. Brilliant. That idea had obviously originated from his smaller head.

To his surprise, Jemma didn’t make a face, roll her eyes, or told him to get stuffed. Instead, her breathing hitched, and she grabbed the hem of her shirt, yanking it over her head.

Bloody hell. He had no idea what was going on. She undid her bra, shrugging it down her arms.

Boobs.

She walked over to stand with her bare legs—when had her trousers come off?—right in front of him. She still had her knickers on, which were emerald green and silky.  

Jemma sank to her knees and put a hand on his chest. “Remember, you have to give me feedback,” she said softly, and he nodded.

Sure, lots of feedback. As soon as he could think straight. She pushed him, and he leaned back against the couch cushions.

This was actually happening. Jemma Simmons was going to blow him.

“Jem…Jemm…Jems, uh, do you want me to…tell you when…ah…” Her face tilted up towards his as she settled her fingers on his knees. She lifted a brow. “Come. When I’m going to come, should I tell you?” At this rate, it was going to be before she undid his zip. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to…uh…swallow.”

She smiled at him. “Oh, Fitz, that is so thoughtful. And I don’t feel obligated.”

“So I should tell you?”

“Hmmm? No, well, you can if you need to, but I’m planning to swallow. It’s much more practical.”

“Oh.” That was very… Jemma of her.

She shrugged. “And I think you taste good and I just want to.” Her eyes went to the front of his trousers. He tried to tell her he was thankful, only it came out more like a garbled moan, but he was sure she understood since she patted his thigh.

Like in the car, she outlined his cock through his trousers with her fingers, biting her lip as she watched her hand move.

It was an exquisite tease.

The pressure of her fingers dragging over his prick with the layers of fabric between was torture. He didn’t know if it was too much, or not enough, but when she reached the head and gently squeezed it, his hips leapt towards her hand.

With a coy look, Jemma went after his button and zip. She grabbed the sides of his slacks and helped him shimmy them down to his ankles. His cock was arching up onto his belly, and he groaned as Jemma tilted her head to consider it.

“You should take your knickers off,” he said, Jemma looked up at him from between his knees, her eyes bright.

“Why?”

He had to work to put a reply together. “Um…because…shouldn’t you be…touching yourself?” He felt a little funny about her just sucking him off. “Or we could go to the bedroom, and you could kneel beside me, and I’ll finger you again?”

Jemma’s brows drew together. “I’m okay. I want to concentrate on giving you pleasure. I’ve never done this, the theory is contradictory, and you need to provide feedback.”

“I can do that, but why are you almost naked?”

“I thought you’d enjoy me without my top.”

“Oh. Er…yes.”

Jemma nodded decisively, then scooted forward and hovered her face right over his cock. He could feel her breath tickling it. She stroked it with a finger, then wrapped her hand around the base, positioning it almost straight up.

Fitz was certain he’d ascended to some other plane of existence.

Jemma’s warm, soft, wet tongue licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, and he gasped. She looked very pleased with herself as she flicked her tongue over the head of his cock, swiping at the bead of precome and tonguing the slit.

“Cripes, Jemma,” he said, starting to reach for her, wanting to push her mouth down around his cock, but then he let his hand fall back to the couch. She didn’t need him directing her.

Her eyes found his as she licked him like a lollipop again. They were questioning.

Feedback, right.

“Um, feels good. Looks good too.”

Jemma grinned.

“I really want to feel your entire mouth around me, but I also want—” Fitz cut himself off. He was not going to ask her to do that.

“What do you want?” Her voice was husky.

“Never mind.”

“Fitz.” It was a warning.

He sighed. Probably not a great idea to brass off the woman with her teeth by your sensitive bits. “I wouldn’t mind if you, I mean if you want to…if you used your mouth on my balls as well.”

Jemma looked surprisingly excited as she immediately ducked her head, his cock still in her hand, and ran her tongue over his sac. He couldn’t keep his eyes open as pleasure sang through his body. She was making little noises, and the vibration and warm, wet licks were transporting him to some other dimension of bliss.

“Suck?” he managed to squeak out between moans.

Her lips wrapped around one side and she slowly welcomed a testicle into her mouth.

Fitz pried his eyes open.

Dear fucking lord.

Jemma had a hand on her tit and was playing with it as she hummed slightly with her mouth on his sac and ran her other hand up and down his cock.

Fitz dearly wished he had some idea of what he’d done to deserve this, so he could keep doing it.

She carefully switched sides, her tongue flicking across his skin until she was able to take the other testicle into her mouth.

“That feels so good, Jems, just right. The vibration is nice too.”

Jemma squeezed her breast tighter, and her cheeks pinked slightly.

With a kiss to his sac, she returned to his cock, giving it another long lick that made him gasp before sucking the head into her mouth.

Fitz had to close his eyes again, and his hand hovered at the side of her head before he forced himself to return it to his thigh.

Jemma’s mouth left his prick. “You can put your hand on me. I’ll tell you if it gets to be too much.” He nodded, and when her lips enveloped him again, he groaned and sank his fingers into her glorious mass of hair and cupped the back of her head.

Jemma swirled her tongue around the head of his prick before she bobbed her head slightly, stopped, and did it again.

He cracked an eye to watch her, even though the slide of her mouth on him was overwhelming. She was wearing a fierce look of concentration, but her hand had slipped down between her thighs, and she circled her hips as she picked up speed with her mouth, taking a little more of him in every few downstrokes.

“Fuck you’re amazing,” he growled, his fingers tightening in her hair. “Just a bit more, just a bit—” He moaned as she sucked more of him between her lips. This wasn’t going to take very long. His body was already tightening towards climax. It was better than he’d ever imagined, even though he felt vulnerable, and it probably wouldn’t be quite as much fun if he didn’t trust Jemma implicitly.

He bucked his hips, and Jemma paused, sputtered, then took her mouth off him. He opened his eyes. “That qualified as a little much,” she said.

“Sorry.” Fitz felt terrible. He hadn’t been trying to gag her.

Jemma smiled. “This is why we’re doing this experiment. I request that you hold your body still, though I understand the drive to thrust.”

Fitz blinked. “Okay.”

Still grinning, she returned to licking his cock. She took the head back into her mouth, swirled her tongue around it, then began bobbing again. He watched her this time, the sight nearly as stimulating as the exquisite feel of her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed slightly, and she moaned when he used the hand in her hair to gently tug her further down his shaft.

It wasn’t long before he was rising towards his peak again. His toes dug into the carpet and his thighs tensed as he fought not to thrust.

Close, close, close…

His sac drew tight against his body and Jemma’s hand went from her crotch to cup his balls.

Her soft touch drove him over the edge, and he fell into rapture. “Jemma. Oh, fuck, Jems.” His fingers spasmed in her hair as his cock pulsed in her mouth. He could feel her swallowing. Holy…everything.

Fitz melted into the sofa, left languid by his orgasm. Jemma gently let his prick go and beamed at him. He smiled back, but then realized she hadn’t come. That wasn’t fair. He sat up with a cry and grabbed Jemma’s arms, hauling her onto the couch. They ended up on their sides,  their legs stretched out along the couch and tangled together.

She felt so good against him. Her face was surprised, and a little amused. It quickly changed to breathless wonder as he hooked aside the crotch of her knickers and glided his fingers over her pussy. She was slick as hell, and he marveled that she was that wet from sucking him off. His fingers found her clit and rubbed at it. Jemma mewled and rocked against his hand.

It only took a minute of working her before she came with a little cry she muffled against his shoulder. He pushed two fingers into her channel, adoring how her body milked them.

When she relaxed, he pulled his fingers out, licked them, and then put an arm around her. She snuggled against him. With his toes, he snagged the afghan from the arm of the couch and worked it up to cover both of them. Jemma yawned, which made him yawn as well.

He held her close as her breathing turned deep and even, and soon sleep overcame him.

****

On Sunday morning, Fitz slept late and woke to Jemma knocking on his door and telling him to come have breakfast.

They’d woken up groggily on the couch, still naked and holding each other, and had agreed to shuffle off to their respective bedrooms. Cold and alone in his bed, Fitz had not gotten back to sleep very quickly.

Stretching, he sat up, located pajamas bottoms, and put them on with a plain t-shirt before hurrying to the table.

There were waffles and sausages, along with raspberries. He dropped a few on his waffle before dumping syrup over everything.

Jemma looked perky. “Debrief,” she said, nibbling on a bite of waffle.

He stared at her lips for a moment, entranced. Her mouth was magic. “Er…” he finally managed. “That was very nice, Jemma. You did wonderfully well. It was better than anything I’d ever dreamed of.”

She beamed at him. “Can you be more specific?”

“Uh, maybe?” He took a huge bite of waffle to give himself time to think. “I liked it all, really. You kept making noises, and that felt nice. And you were able to take quite a lot into your mouth, and um…I liked you swallowing. I thought it didn’t matter that much, but turns out it made me feel more lo…uh, accepted.” Fitz busied himself cutting up a sausage. What the hell had he almost said that for? “Oh, and that you were wet from doing that. That was also good.”

Jemma nodded. “I appreciated you listening to me when I told you not to move, and really, you tasted wonderful.” She bit her lip. “Why did you do what you did at the end?”

“Make you come?” he asked, hoping that was what she meant.

“Yes, this was your day, and we’d done what you wanted.”

“It didn’t seem right. I wanted to you to feel good too.” He wasn’t sure there’d even been that much thought put into his actions, but it was close to how he’d been feeling in the moment.

Jemma eyes fixed on the corner of the table. “I liked being held after,” she said. “Cuddling.” She glanced at him then quickly away again. “Even sleeping with you right there.”

“Yeah. Me too. It was comforting.”

“Yes, maybe we should include a regular period of post-coital touching?”

The corner of his mouth quirked upward. That phrase let him know Jemma wasn’t asking about this on the spur of the moment. “Yes, I concur.” It surprised him less than maybe it should that holding Jemma in a non-sexual manner was also satisfying. She was an excellent cuddler.

“Settled, we can negotiate the particulars later.” Jemma daintily ate a bite of her waffle. Fitz nudged the bag of Scrabble tiles in her direction.

Setting her fork down, she swirled the tiles around as Fitz used a knife to butter a part of his waffle. She drew a tile, and he sank the knife back into the butter to hold it upright as Jemma set the tile down beside the dish: **P**.


	7. P

Friday was the arse end of a completely terrible week. By some miracle, she and Fitz had turned in two prototypes, one a miniature version of the heat sensor and the other a tiny echolocator that could show the dimensions of any enclosed space. Neither was perfect by a long shot, but it was light years beyond anything else available. Plus, they’d had basic schematics for the six other sensors they were crafting. They’d just fudged a few things, like exactly how they were going to identify materials remotely. Probably something to do with density, but it wasn’t finalized yet.

Richard had growled and grumped, but he couldn’t complain. The funding had been secured, and it’d been a great deal more than they’d been expected, which was a relief. Fitz needed actual high-quality resources to work with, and the reagents she was using weren’t exactly cheap.

Not that the money was flowing freely. Jemma was currently holed up in her office writing up justifications for the supplies and equipment they required. She had a great many footnotes referring to bits and pieces of academic papers that only hinted at what she and Fitz were trying to do. Their work was unprecedented, and it was driving her crazy that nobody seemed to appreciate that.

It was making Fitz a bear.

The sheer amount of whispering going on in the office wasn’t helping their moods, either. Everyone had something to whisper to the someone else whenever Jemma passed, and if she and Fitz were together, it was ten times worse.

Fitz had gotten paranoid at one point that there must be rumors they were going to fail and their jobs were on the line. Which was utter nonsense, except that time Sherri had walked in on Jemma and Fitz huddled together over mugs of tea and had smirked at them both before turning and walking out. Jemma’s hand had been on Fitz’s arm, and she’d given it an extra squeeze in sympathy. It really had seemed like there was a secret, but then the funding had come through and everything had settled. The worst part now was the reams of paperwork. She’d take it.

At noon, Fitz clomped in and dropped her lunch pail on the desk.

“I swear the entire place is mad we got funding,” he said, flinging himself into the chair across from her. “Everyone’s been looking at us like we’re about to explode.”

“They’re just jealous. This project is award-winning work. Let them talk.”

Fitz sighed, unwrapped his sandwich, and took a big bite. He pulled out his mobile and typed with his thumb.

Her mobile’s screen lit up with an email from him. ‘What’s P going to be?’

She drummed her fingers on the desk. Then picked up her mobile to unlock it. She stole a glance at Fitz, who was glaring at his screen, and considered her reply as she opened her pictures to stare at the one of Fitz’s cock pointing at the ceiling for inspiration.

She pressed her thighs together. Just seeing Fitz hard was enough to get her excited. It was time she knew how he’d feel inside her.

Her email back was succinct. ‘P=penetrative sex’.

Fitz swiped the screen when the chime sounded, and he went a bit pale as his brows shot up.

“Okay,” he said. “Good, yeah.” He typed something, then lounged in his chair and took another bite of sandwich, looking at the ceiling as he chewed.

The email popped up. ‘Can’t wait!’

Jemma grinned. This was far more interesting than expense justifications. She tapped his foot with hers under the desk. “I can’t wait either.”

A deep flush overcame his paleness, but he was grinning too. “Jemma, you’re the best friend ever.”

****

Saturday had been a million hours long, and more than once she’d questioned their choice to wait until the evening. However, the calls to first her parents and then his mum had tempered her desire. His mum had talked to both of them for more than an hour, then to Fitz for another hour after that. She’d oddly asked if Fitz wanted her to send him his grandmother’s ring, which she’d just noticed he’d forgotten to take with him after Christmas.

Jemma had shared a puzzled look with Fitz about his mother’s insistence on sending the ring, but he’d agreed because otherwise, his mum would never be quiet about it. She’d sounded delighted.

At eight, while Fitz played Call of Duty with some buddies, Jemma slipped to her room to get it ready by pulling the covers off the bed, arranging the pillows, turning off all the lights except for the one next to the bed, and finally by putting out the lube, just in case.

By eight-fifteen she was done waiting. She brushed her hair one last time, sprayed on a tiny puff of the perfume Fitz had bought her for Christmas, and walked out to the living room in only her robe.

Fitz glanced up, and his eyes widened. “See you later,” he said to his mates and turned the console’s power off in the middle of a match. She hooked a finger into one of the loops on his belt after he scrambled to his feet and led him to her room.

He was hard by the time they reached it.

“Clothes off,” she said, dropping her robe. Fitz visibly swallowed but made fast work of his t-shirt and slacks.

She crawled onto the mattress and lounged back on the bed, crooking a finger and beckoning Fitz closer, then laughed at her poor attempt at sultry.

Fitz’s mouth quirked up, but his smile faded as his gaze locked onto her breasts. He kneeled on the foot of the bed, his hand swept up and down his cock, and Jemma bit her lip. There was an aching pulse between her legs, which was only slightly winning against her nervousness. Things felt different, more real, knowing what they were about to do.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey,” Fitz replied. He took a deep breath, then shuffled forward on his knees until he was beside her. She parted her legs as he dropped to all fours and very carefully moved so he was between her knees with his hands on either side of her torso. His eyes were flicking from her face to her chest, and his shoulders were hunched.

“Nervous?” she asked, and he nodded. “Me too.”

“Yeah?” He shifted his weight and stroked a finger over her cheek as his gaze locked with hers.

“Which I know is a little silly. We’ve already done a lot together, and I know you, you’re not some stranger, and if I don’t do things just right, it’s only an experiment, and we can talk, figure out what went wrong, and try again with no shame. But…” She looped an arm around Fitz’s neck.

“But?”

“It feels important, different, and I don’t understand why.” She hated not knowing the reason, but her feelings were too messy to parse at the moment.

“Maybe because it’s culturally centered as being what sex is, even though I think everything we’ve done together so far should count.” Fitz’s brow furrowed. He frowned. “You absolutely have to tell me if I’m not doing things right or you need more or a different type of stimulation.”

Jemma kissed his cheek. “I think it will feel good, no matter what, you don’t need to be concerned about my orgasm this time.”

Fitz rolled his eyes so hard she was surprised they didn’t come out of his head. “Right, Simmons. I won’t worry about that at all.”

She giggled. “We’re thinking too much.”

“Probably.” But he didn’t look convinced.

Jemma patted the mattress beside her and Fitz tipped over onto it with a sigh. She turned on her side to face him and reached out to card her fingers through his curls. His face was so dear to her, and she knew it better than her own.  A day without Fitz in it was impossible for her to think about.

Her finger traced his brow and down his nose to tap at the end, then dropped to his lips. They were soft, and he kissed her fingertips as she slid them over the perfectly shaped top one and fuller lower one.

Jemma’s heart was pounding, and her stomach felt full of butterflies.

Fitz hesitantly lifted his hand and cradled her face. “Oh, Jems,” he breathed, his thumb stroking her cheek.

She’d purr if she could. Her fingers continued their journey, caressing Fitz’s neck on her way down to fan them out over his chest.

Fitz smiled and ran a hand down her side to grab her hip. She retaliated by boldly moving her palm down his belly, then over his hip to pet his rear. Yanking her against him, Fitz ground his cock into her and moaned. She pressed her face to his neck and kissed the sweet-smelling skin there as she kneaded his arse.

Her friend Fitz, who made everything better.

The butterflies in her stomach were melting into a burning heat. She needed him, needed Fitz, needed them to be as close as possible. Her nails dug into his rear, and Fitz grunted, then she was flat on her back again, and his mouth was around her nipple.

“Like that, please, Fitz, please.” She fisted the sheet and arched her back. His tongue flicking over her nipple drove the ache in her middle to a new level. She’d gone past simple desire and was drenched in lust. The line of his cock against her leg and the weight of him on top of her was driving her higher.

“Pretty titties,” he whispered to her chest as he switched sides. He caressed her hip and thigh before brushing over her pussy. On the next pass, she opened her legs, and the rough pads of his fingers slid into her folds. He looked up, startled.

“I’d be embarrassed,” she said, assuming he was surprised by her state of arousal. “Except that I’m really, dreadfully turned on and I very much need you.”

“You make me so fucking hard,” he ground out as he nuzzled her breasts. Jemma moaned. Where’d he learned to talk like that? She gasped as he pushed her legs further apart, and this time he didn’t hesitate as he moved between them, his cock coming to rest at the apex of her thighs.

Her breathing was loud, and her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Fitz, his eyes clouded with desire, rested his forehead against hers, but then he blinked. “Cripes, Jemma,” he said. “We didn’t talk about how…shite. I’m mucking this all up.”

“What are you on about?” She had no idea and lifted her hips to rub against his erection since he seemed not to understand her current impatience.

He made a face. “That’s not helping. I mean, what…position.”

“Oh. Um…this is fine.” Anything else would require moving. That would take too long. Not that this wasn’t taking too long. “Right now would be good.” She lightly scratched her nails on his back.

Fitz still looked perplexed. “In slowly? Or fast? And what about—”

“Fitz!” She snapped. “Now.”

He hitched himself up, wide-eyed, positioned the head of his cock with a hand, braced himself—the tightening of his body was delicious—then slammed himself to the hilt inside her.

Jemma gasped. The stretch was perfect. He fit like he’d been made for her.

“Feels good,” she moaned, stretching her legs even wider apart to welcome him.

Fitz looked like he might cry. “Jemma,” he whispered. “Jemma, Jemma, Jemma.” It was a sweet litany. She adjusted her head and guided him until their cheeks pressed together.

She wanted to move badly, and not at all, ever. Being joined with Fitz, it felt sacred, not profane, or like an experiment, something cold and clinical. Perhaps because it was the first time she wasn’t worried about being judged during sex. Though she wasn’t sure that was the reason, and she was back to not understanding why things were so different with Fitz.

To distract herself, she caressed him, running her hands over his shoulders and back and one of her feet stroked his calf.

His hips hitched, and even that tiny buck was enough to start a cascade of desire stemming from the prod of him inside her, the stretch of her opening around his cock, the slide of his skin against hers at all the places they touched. 

“Jems?” he murmured.

“Please tell me you need to thrust.”

“I need to thrust.”

“Thank goodness.”

The first few times were slow and a little hesitant as he worked out where his knees and hands needed to go. The next half dozen were surer, and she pushed up to meet them. His breathing was harsh in her ear as their cheeks stayed tight together.

It seemed inevitable to Jemma that they’d end up like this. Since that first day they’d been in the same class as the shiny new girl and the quiet, awkward boy. Who was excellent at giving her orgasms. The thought that they’d be able to stay curled up holding each other afterward cheered Jemma greatly because no matter how much time they spent on the actual sexual act, it wasn’t going to be long enough.

Fitz was adjusting a little every couple of plunges now, minute changes of angle or rhythm.

Jemma smiled. “Are you trying to find just the right manner?”

“Yes,” he grunted. “Let me know if I do.”

“Try lowering your hips slightly and thrusting with maybe…fifteen percent more power?”

He fine-tuned his position, then plunged back into her harder like she’d asked.

It was perfect.

Crying out, she jerked hard against him.

“Got it,” he said, sounding smug. He continued to move just right, and Jemma was seeing stars.

One of her hands pressed against his back, and the other dropped to grip his arse. The flex of his muscle as he drilled into her was delightful.

“Variation,” she choked out.

“What?”

“Vary your strokes. Several short and fast, then one or two long and deep.” Dear lord, it was hard to think.

Fitz did as she asked, and he obviously grasped the concept because after the first few times, he became unpredictable and it was breathtaking.

“Excellent,” she mewled.

Fitz grunted, then found his voice again. “You feel like heaven, Jemma. So hot, so wet. Love…fucking you. Do you like my cock in you? Is it going to make you come?”

She nipped his ear. “Yes.” Her belly was coiled tight, her legs starting to tremble. “I’m close.”

“I know.”

Of course he did, but his words and the way he was grinding against her clit on the downstrokes sent her over the edge. Her hips jerked, and she keened as fireworks exploded behind her eyelids. Her hands were digging into him, and he didn’t pause, the deep and hard thrusts intensifying the pulses of bliss. Her nipples were smushed against his chest and, oh god, her orgasm was echoing there too.

“Jemma,” he was murmuring again. She wrapped her legs and arms around him as aftershocks continued to shake her. “Jemma, Jemma, my Jemma.”

“I’m here,” she murmured, kissing his ear and cheek. “I’m here, Fitz.”

He lost any kind of artfulness and pistoned wildly into her. The entire bed was shaking, something toppled off the nightstand, and she did her best to keep pace.

With a last deep plunge and a strangled cry, he came. His cock pulsed and Jemma could feel him flooding her as his muscles twitched under her palms.

Finally, he sagged against her with a relieved sigh, and she stroked his hair.

She felt completely satisfied.

“Debrief,” he mumbled to the side of her head.

“Oh, Fitz,” she said, wiggling with contentment.

“Was that a good ‘oh, Fitz’ or a bad ‘oh, Fitz’?” He sounded somewhat terrified.

“It was a very good one.”

She could feel him relax and smile. “I’m afraid I’m going to need to ask you to be more specific.”

“Mmmm.” She played with the little hairs at the nape of his neck. “I liked that you were nervous like I was at the beginning. And that you became more confident but then still asked me about things and didn’t just assume. I appreciated you working to figure out what was most pleasurable for me, and that you listened and acted on my directions.” She quirked her lips. “And the dirty talk was much more enjoyable than I’d ever imagined it could be.”

“I…it just came out, unintentionally.”

“Well, you can continue if you’d like to.”

Fitz nuzzled her cheek. “I think it’s because I feel comfortable with you. I’ve never…um, done something like that, before.”

“I’m very glad you feel comfortable with me.” He kissed her check. “I’ve never, well, you were excellent about including my clit, but…I’ve never come during missionary before.”

Fitz pushed himself up. “Then why would you say you wanted—” He broke off and ran a hand through his hair.

“Because it felt nice, you being on top of me. I would have asked to change at some point if I’d realized I wasn’t going to get off.” Fitz draped himself over her again with a snort and hid his face against her neck. “What about you?”

“Everything,” he said, voice muffled.

“Fitz!” She poked his leg with her toe. He grumbled something unintelligible, so she poked him again.

“Fine, you harridan. I still can hardly believe you were that wet for me. I liked when you did things like grab my bum or dig your nails in like you couldn’t get enough, and I greatly appreciated clear directions. Communication does make everything more enjoyable. All the little noises you make really let me know that things are going alright.” He kissed her neck.

She was grinning now. “I couldn’t get enough. Which reminds me, are you still okay with cuddling afterward?”

Fitz nodded and yawned. Grimacing, he pulled out of her, and the loss made her want to grab him and demand they start all over again because she wasn’t ready to let him go. Instead, she stood, nearly fell from her legs shaking, and pointed to the quilt. “Can you put it on the bed?” she asked, not waiting for a reply before heading to the bathroom to use the restroom and clean up. She returned with a warm, damp flannel so Fitz could wipe off as well.

There wasn’t much to be done about the wet spot, but she got in the bed, and Fitz curled up behind her, spooning her. It occurred to Jemma that they maybe should have put clothes on, but he’d already pulled the quilt up to their chins and was tucking his arm over her. She wasn’t about to move now.

She lay quietly, her fingers occasionally brushing Fitz’s, and thought about what her schedule for the next week looked like. There wasn’t going to be a lot of down time, and she needed to plan for some crockpot dinners.

“Fitz?” she said, intending to ask him what sounded good, but there wasn’t a reply. “Fitz?” she twisted a little, he was fast asleep, his mouth hanging slightly open.

It was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. Leaning over him, she kissed his temple and clicked off the bedside lamp. It wasn’t worth waking him, not when work had been so tiring. Their job was interesting and challenging, and she loved it, but it was exhausting. Fitz needed his rest, as did she. Jemma snuggled against him as sleep claimed her as well.

****

The next morning, Jemma woke groggy and confused. There was something wrapped around her waist. Something heavy. She blinked her eyes open.

Oh, Fitz was still in bed with her. He was lying on his back, dark eyelashes fanned against his cheeks, and his breathing was deep and even. She was lying half on top of him, her face smooshed into his shoulder, and his arm was draped over her.

It was another first. Jemma had never slept the entire night with anybody she’d had sex with. Actually, the only person she’d ever spent an entire night with was Fitz, because sometimes they’d study late and end up crashing in each other’s dorms, but they’d always slept fully clothed and with their backs to each other.

This was much better.

And warmer.

He smelled of sleep and Fitz, making it difficult to get up, but they had to get to work on the write-ups as well as a redesign on the echolocator. The small size of the receiving microphone was an issue, and she was looking at different shapes of bat ears in the hopes of finding a solution.

Jemma slowly tried to push his arm off her. She could get breakfast going, and once the tea was ready, she’d wake him.

Fitz stymied her plans by pouting and drawing his arm tighter around her, but he didn’t wake up.

After a moment, she tried again, pushing his hand down, which only resulted in him cupping her ass and muttering something like her name.

“Fitz,” she said softly. Nothing. She spoke again, louder. “Fitz!”

His eyes popped open, and his fingers closed tighter on her ass, then he yelped and let her go, scrambling to sit upright.

“Sorry, I…” He glanced around. “I fell asleep. Is it morning?”

“Yes, silly.”

“Oh, I, um…obviously didn’t make it back to my bed. Or find my clothes.” He looked very sheepish.

“Me either. Our post-coital cuddle turned into a nap turned into a full night of excellent sleep.”

He eyed her. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? I slept great and woke up being held by my best friend. Not a terrible way to start the day.”

“Uh, yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Tea?”

“About to make it.” She kissed his cheek, crawled out of bed, and shrugged on her robe. After a quick stop to use the loo and wash her hands, she trotted to the kitchen and flipped the radio on to a classical station. Humming, she started the kettle and got out the stuff for waffles. Though there wasn’t any sausage and Fitz would have to make do with some fruit.

Jemma had just put their mugs on the counter when Fitz caught her in a hug from behind and kissed the back of her neck.

She giggled and put her arms over his.

“Ready to find out our fate for next week?” he said, dropping the bag of Scrabble tiles in front of her.

“Maybe it’ll be the blank tile, and you’ll get to choose your own fate.”

“Maybe. Let’s see.” She held the bag steady as he reached in, his other arm still around her. She leaned back against him as he held up the tile: **D**.


	8. D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday today, so y'all get an extra chapter! Enjoy! (I get cake and cocoa!)

Fitz hated Tuesdays. Especially this one.

The parts he needed were late. The laser cutter wasn’t working. His boss kept side-eyeing him, and Jemma was grumpy. She was scowling and sitting hunched up on a stool at her workbench.

Terrific.

Fabulous.

He coughed, then sniffed. And he was getting sick. Jemma had declared it a cold, which didn’t make him feel any better, but it seemed to please her that he wasn’t going to keel over from Ebola, so he tried to be happy even though he was at death’s bloody door.

A shipment came in at three—the long-awaited parts—and Fitz carefully unpacked them. He was on his own by then, Jemma was at a monthly bio meeting.

As he was storing the sub-microprocessors, there were loud footsteps that stomped into the lab.

“Richard,” Fitz said without turning around. “I’ll get you those reports later. I need to focus on the blasted mapping function right now.”

“Uh, it’s Milton, not Richard.”

Milton? Fitz swiveled. Sure enough, it was Milton and his cabbage head. “Jemma’s not here,” Fitz said, in case the berk was too dumb to realize that.

“I know.” Milton stood and fidgeted while Fitz crossed his arms and leaned against a workbench, waiting. “Um, well.” Fitz sighed. Milton straightened up. “See, the thing is, a couple of the guys and I are going to go hang out on Saturday evening. It’s an Irish pub, maybe work our way to somewhere there're girls dancing without their tops on.”

Fitz blinked. “Good for you.”

“No, I mean, do you want to go? Boy’s night?”

This had officially just gotten very weird. Jemma’s ex-boyfriend, who’d made an art of ignoring Fitz, wanted him to come hang out at a titty bar?

That was no more likely to happen than Plank’s constant changing value. And why would Fitz want to look at some tart’s fake breasts when he could have his face smushed between Jemma’s?

Milton was a moron.

“No. I’ve got plans with Jemma, and I’m feeling under the weather.”

“Plans?” Milton leaned forward.

What was with this git? “Yeah, we’re testing a new drone prototype I designed.”

Milton wilted. “Do you ever take a vacation?”

“Some of us have motivation and drive.”

“Yes, I guess so. Have fun with your prototype.”

He left, and Fitz plunked down on a stool. That had been decidedly odd. He coughed and then sneezed. Ugh, why was he getting ill now?

Jemma returned from her meeting, looking even more out of sorts. “I have to stay late and analyze a sample a field agent brought back.”

He looked morosely at her. “I’m really sick.”

“Oh, Fitz. Head home, I’ll finish up here then come home and make you tea.”

“That sounds lovely.” He sniffed loudly. “Do you have a ride?”

“Molly will bring me. She already has a new boyfriend, and we can chat about him. And by we, I mean she’ll talk non-stop, and I’ll nod where appropriate.”

“Thanks,” he muttered. “I owe you.”

Jemma smiled and patted his arm.

On the way home, Fitz made a pit stop at the local Walgreens. He needed cold medicine. Preferably the kind that helped you sleep. One of his nostrils was already plugged. He wasn’t looking forward to a long night of rolling from side to side to switch which side was the one stopped up.

He texted Jemma. **At Walgreens, do you need anything?**

**Yes, please. I need pads.**

That explained the grumpiness.

**The green package?**

**Please.**

He got several different cold medicines, Jemma’s pads, and a plain chocolate bar. He’d leave it on her nightstand, because, while she hated to admit she craved it, Fitz knew she’d eat it. He would also get out the heating pad. He’d given it a setting between low and medium that was just right for cramps.

Fitz might be sick, but he could still take care of Jemma.

****

Fitz ended up staying home for the rest of the week. He was gross and snotty for a day and a half but was feeling better by Thursday afternoon. Jemma hadn’t let him go in on Friday, however. She’d insisted he could work on designs and reports from the couch, which he’d done, along with making improvements to the drone. Once it was stable and flying, he was going to start training the software to do so automatically.

That should be interesting.

At lunchtime, his mobile chimed with an email from Jemma. ‘Do you feel up to continuing our experiment tomorrow, or should we postpone a week?’.

He scoffed. He was nowhere near sick enough to warrant not seeing her naked. ‘I’m ready, willing, and able’.

She sent a smiley face which was immediately followed by another email. ‘What is D going to be?’

Damn it. ‘Just a minute’. Fitz brought up an internet browser and went to Pornhub, searching for D.

Dom/sub was the first thing that came up. He tilted his head, the preview being a man bound in ropes while a buxom blonde in tight leather spanked his rear with a whip. Not what he was looking for right now, but he wiggled in his chair. It gave him ideas, most of which he wasn’t ready to examine.

There were a lot of videos that had titles with the word dick in them. Not helpful. Dick wasn’t a sex act. A dildo was a possibility, but he didn’t want to have something that wasn’t his cock inside her this time. Not when they’d just started having intercourse.

He scrolled right past the one that had dragon in the title.

She might agree to try deep-throating but requesting oral sex twice in a row when it was his turn seemed a bit much. Not to mention gagging her again was not high on his list of priorities. He changed the search from most recent uploads to most popular.

His eyes lit up. Doggie-style. Taking Jemma from behind, making her breasts sway as he screwed her. Yes, please. He cleared his browser history and picked up his mobile.

‘Doggy-style’, he emailed her.

‘Perfect! I can hardly wait!’

He drummed his finger against his thigh as his cock twitched. He could hardly wait, either. Plunging into Jemma while her face…wait, he wouldn’t be able to see her face.

He sent another email. ‘Maybe not. I like seeing your expressions’.

‘Don’t worry, Fitz. It’ll be fine. Though we can change if you want.’

He thought for a minute more, trying to parse out how he felt and if Jemma wanted him to change or not. Finally, he decided asking and not guessing was his best choice. ‘Do you want me to pick something else?’

‘No, I want to know how it feels to have sex like that.’

He stared at his screen. Jemma hadn’t had sex in that position before. He’d be her first at something.

Doggy-style was back on.

He grinned as he typed. ‘Let’s do it’.

****

The innards of Fitz’s prototype drone were spread out over the living room floor. It’d flown for a few moments, then crashed right into the carpet.

“It was a valiant effort,” Jemma said, looking sympathetic.

Fitz rubbed his temple. “I suppose. And I think I know what went wrong.” He typed in a note on his tablet, grateful that his cold seemed to be gone and his nose wasn’t threatening to drip.

Jemma got down on her hands and knees and started rounding up the parts, putting them on the coffee table. She’d come to grab him for their usual Saturday experiment, but he’d just been about to send the drone on its inaugural flight, and she’d wanted to see it.

Probably not his best choice when it’d been such a spectacular failure.

“Stop pouting,” she said over her shoulder. “You’ll get it right next time.”

He nodded absently, watching her trousers pull tight over her arse as she corralled bits of the drone. “Jemma, do you think we should do our experiment now?”

She glanced at him again, and her eyes became sultry. “Good idea.”

The tablet clattered as he set it on the coffee table. Jemma got to her feet and grasped his hand. She raised it and kissed the middle of his palm. Her breath was cool, and his body woke up.

“Jemma,” he breathed. She sucked his forefinger into her mouth, flicked the pad with her tongue, then let him go.

“Tag,” she chirped and ran towards her room.

He wasn’t letting her get away with that.

Fitz caught her halfway down the hallway and barely got her facing him before stumbling and squishing her against the wall. Her hands gripped his arse, and he ground against her, his mouth going to her neck to press open-mouthed kisses there.

Jemma whimpered and humped against him, the heat of her core burning him even through their trousers. Her shirt came off with a yank, and he bent to nuzzle the top of her breasts where her pink bra lovingly framed them. Yanking down one of the lace cups, he sucked on her nipple and Jemma moaned.

He nibbled and teased the tight point while he undid her trousers, hampered by her squirming, not that he’d tell her to stop. Making Jemma breathless and needy was quickly becoming his favorite hobby. He thought he was getting better at it too. It was very rewarding to see her desire him like this, with her cheeks flushed and her eyes hooded.

He knelt as he pulled her knickers and trousers down and helped her kick them off. He trailed his fingers up the inside of her thighs, then swiped them over her pussy. She was already wet, and his cock jerked in his pants. Hold on, he told it, there were still things he wanted to do, especially since being behind her meant he couldn’t stimulate her clit himself.

Fitz parted the lips of her pussy with one hand, the skin smooth. It had to take a lot of work to keep herself trimmed like this, and he was impressed, doubly so because he was the only beneficiary. It made his toes curl to know she was spending the time and effort just as a treat for him.

Leaning in, he flicked his tongue over her clit, and she gasped.

“More,” she demanded, her fingers gripping his hair tight and pulling him towards her pussy. As if he’d run away. His tongue lapped at her, and her hips jerked while her thighs quivered like she was already about to get off. Surprised, he glanced up at her. She was cupping her breasts with her head tilted back against the wall. He slid a finger into her, and she bit her lip as her inner muscles tightened around it.

He was beyond surprised now. “Are you going to come?”

“Not if you don’t keep licking.” She tugged on his hair again.

He bent returned to her clit, and she hooked a leg over his shoulder to make it easier for him.

Jemma lasted less than a minute longer. Holding still, he gloried in her cries as she rocked her hips and fucked his fingers and face. He was a king. One that could make the most fascinating person in the world randy.

His cock was demanding attention as it pushed painfully against the front of his trousers. He stood and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head…and promptly getting it stuck in his haste. He couldn’t see, and his arms were trapped.

“Fuck,” he cursed. “Jemma?” She cupped his prick through his trousers, and he groaned. “That’s not helping.” She undid his snap and zip, and her hand snuck into the opening. She found the front flap of his boxers and her fingers worked their way in until she was caressing his cock. “Still not helping,” he choked out.

“Not trying to.” She stroked along his length, making him moan. Her breathing hitched as she played with him.

“You could be helping me get naked,” he reminded her.

“I could. But I like how naughty it feels when I’m naked, and you’re not.”

That was a new tidbit of information to store for later, one with a lot of possibilities, though not the other way around. “I think I like you better naked. I don’t care much about my kit either way.”

Jemma laughed and kissed one of his stuck elbows through his shirt. “We agree then. For now, shirt off, but leave your trousers on.”

She helped him get the t-shirt over his head, then turned and walked to her bedroom. He was mesmerized by the sway of her hips and curve of her rear. It wasn’t until she disappeared that Fitz figured out he was standing there like a complete idiot. Shuffling, he held up his trousers with a hand as he followed after her.

The light in her room was muted, and the bed stripped like usual. There was the faintest hint of the scent of newly mown grass coming from one of the candles.

Jemma was waiting with her back to him. She gave him a coy look over her shoulder, and climbed into the bed.

His cock twitched, and his mouth went dry. Her pussy, slick with her cream, was visible and damn near calling to him. Plus, she’d already come once and would be ready for him, because he didn’t think he could do slow right now to save his life. Fitz managed, somehow, to not trip as he walked to the bed and kneeled on the mattress.

Jemma lowered herself onto her elbows, leaving her arse in the air. Her legs slid apart, making a soft sound on the sheets.

Fitz positioned himself behind her and trailed his hands down her spine then over her arse and hips. “You look amazing,” he murmured. He had to take his hands off her, which was a travesty, to push his trousers and pants down far enough to free his cock. Jemma lifter her rear a fraction higher, and he couldn’t resist running the head of his prick over her smooth skin. With the first stroke, he left behind a trail of precum, which he happily rubbed into her. For right now, her arse was his.

“Fitz,” Jemma said, in an entirely not-moaning way and he froze. Shite, he’d fucked up.

“Yes?”

“I’m very happy you’re so interested in my bum, but try looking towards the wall.”

In confusion, he raised his head. He watched his own eyes widen with surprise. “There’s a mirror,” he said, then sighed. Obviously Jemma knew that.

Her eyes met his in the mirror, and she grinned. “You were worried about not being able to see my face, so I found a solution. Though it seems as if I shouldn’t have been concerned.”

Fitz snuck a glance where his cock was resting between the cheeks of her rear, then back up at the image of Jemma with her arse in the air and him positioned behind her with his trousers at mid-thigh. “Both views are nice.”

Jemma had her arm braced on the bed, and her chest pressed against it, the swell of her breasts just visible. Her other hand must be in a position where she could rub herself, which was hot in its own right.

He looked down again, then moved so he could situate himself against her pussy. Her cunt was hot and wet, and she moaned at his touch.

This was a lot sexier than he’d been imagining.

With a grunt, he pushed slowly inside her, the combination of the feel of her body opening for him along with the sight was enough to white out his brain. He kept going until his cock was entirely buried in her soft, slick channel. Something in his chest unknotted, and he sighed deeply. Whatever else had gone on recently at work, right now he was content.

Jemma rolled her hips, and he took the hint, but only moved back and forth about an inch, enjoying the feel of her too much to simply want to get off. Making lo-er, having sex with Jemma was the best part of his week. He checked the mirror, still a little startled at how erotic they looked together. Jemma’s mouth was open slightly, and she was watching the mirror as well.

She smiled. “Harder, please.”

“Of course. By how much?”

“Twenty-five percent? Then ramp it up again by the same amount after a few minutes.”

He nodded and clasped both of her hips, thrusting with more force.

Jemma moaned and pushed back against him. His attention was caught by the slight of his body clashing with hers. His prick was coated in her desire, and it was running down his balls. She was so blasted wet. A thrill went through him because it was all for him. Jemma could be doing this with any bloke she wanted, and she’d picked him to experiment with. God, he was happy to be her lab partner.

“Ungh, Fitz,” she groaned, and he figured that was his cue to move harder. Her pussy was tightening, and he checked her face in the mirror. She looked close. He calculated the angle he was at and did his best to adjust for the difference of their body positions compared to when he was on top.

It must have been at least partially successful, because Jemma stiffened and cried out, her pussy milking his cock as she came.

He dropped back to his normal pace, but Jemma growled. “Don’t you dare stop now.”

He immediately returned to screwing her hard and fast, her arse jiggling from the force. The slap of his balls against her was a little extra exclamation point to every thrust. Maybe she needed a little extra too? Not thinking too much about it, he let go with one hand and smacked her ass. Jemma jerked and moaned, so he did it again.

“Yes,” she cried. Her pelvis churned, and she was coming, her walls clamping rhythmically around his prick. “Yes, Fitz. Yes.”

She sagged forward a minute later, and he met her gaze in the mirror. “You can ease up if you wish to.”

He was getting close himself, but slowed down anyway, not wanting to be done already. He closed his eyes to focus on the slick slide of his cock in and out of her pussy. It was heaven.

“Fitz?” Jemma asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“Can I touch you?”

He looked down at where he was screwing her, then at her face in the mirror.

Jemma rolled her eyes. “With my hand. The one I’ve been using on my clit?”

That made more sense. “Go ahead.”

She hummed in contentment, and even though he was expecting it, it was still a surprise when her finger brushed his prick. He slowed down his thrusts more while she explored. Jemma felt how her body was stretched around his, lightly stroked the underside of his cock. At last, she reached back to cup his entire sac.

That made him gasp and jerk. “Bloody hell, Jems. That feels amazing.”

“I’m going to come again,” she announced, which really didn’t seem to have much to do with what he’d just said, but he rolled with it, screwing her harder. Her hand disappeared, and he watched as she bit her lip, circled her hips, and came with a squeak.

When her pussy stopped pulsing quite so hard, she dropped her head down and hid her face.

“Jemma?” he asked.

“Keep going,” she called. “Let me feel you come.”

That he could do. His cock must have heard her, or he’d been hovering closer to the edge than he thought, because once he permitted himself, he was surging towards his peak. He thrust wildly, not caring about much besides getting there. He grunted as he came, pleasure spreading like wildfire from his groin to encompass his entire body.

His thighs became jello as he spurted into Jemma, and there was a minute of vertigo when he realized he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, and he had to scramble to land by Jemma’s side so he didn’t squish her. He ended up lying on his belly, one arm around her, feeling like a deboned chicken.

Jemma cuddled up to him. “Are you alright?”

“Ask me tomorrow.”

“Debrief?”

“Now?” She was a bloody workaholic. Couldn’t he pass out first?

“I’m a bit scrambled too, but we should.”

He sighed. “You start because it was your idea.”

“That’s fair.” She kissed his shoulder. “I liked this a lot. I thought I might not, but it was spectacular. And I wanted to touch you so badly after it being a week that I was ready to go very quickly. And you were so kind and made sure I came, though the hallway was a surprise.” Her brows drew together.

“That part, the hallway, was unintentional. It seemed too far to your bedroom. I had been planning on making you come first anyway because I was concerned I couldn’t reach your clit. I’m very glad you did that yourself.”

“You didn’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?” He was very puzzled. Jemma coming was one of his favorite things. Right up there with chocolate and bacon. She shook her head, but he knew her too well for her to pretend it was nothing. “Jemma, why would I mind?”

She rolled and hid her face in the sheet, but she spoke. “I’ve been told before that while…having sex…it’s rude to not depend on your partner to pleasure you.”

Fitz was horrified. He wanted to bark at her and ask who had said that. They needed to be punched. “Whoever the prick was that told you that, I’m not him. That’s bullshite. You do what you need. I need you to come, any way possible.” He snorted in indignation and hugged her tighter.

“Thank you, Fitz. It’s nice to be doing this with you.”

“Agreed. I want to tell you that I appreciated you positioning the mirror so I could still see your face. It was erotic watching us.” He cupped her cheek. “You’re very beautiful, Jemma. Everything about you, especially your mind. Bouncing ideas off you is a joy.”

She nodded and pressed into his palm. “I can’t imagine working with anyone else.”

“Me either.” He replayed some of their encounter. “I liked you exploring with your hand.”

She grinned. “I liked you spanking me.”

His cheeks warmed. “I’m glad, but I should have asked.”

“I would have told you if it was disagreeable. We can’t be entirely opposed to spontaneous actions.” She was smiling shyly. “It was a nice spontaneous action.” His heart fluttered. “Honestly, having actual intercourse with you is an eye-opening experience.”

Fitz agreed. “It is. I’ve never felt as turned on or satisfied as I do with you. I believed that sex couldn’t possibly be as exciting as the internet made it out to be.” He studied her sweet face. “But with you, it’s incredible. Why do you think that is?” Jemma always knew the answer to something if he didn’t.  

“Because we trust each other and have easy and open communication.”

“I can see the communication portion being important.” He swept his thumb over her lower lip.

“Yes, but I really think it’s because we are comfortable with each other. We’re responsive to each other's needs, but also take care of our own. We’re not trying to be accommodating.”

Damn it, she’d lost him. “Can you extrapolate ‘accommodating’?”

“For example, with a person you’re in a relationship with, especially if it’s a new one, if you want to go out to eat you will probably agree to whatever they say. Right?”

“Usually I just say, ‘whatever you want’.”

“Would you do that to me? If I asked?”

He laughed, and Jemma grinned. “No,” he said. “Or I’d end up only eating rabbit food.” She made a face. “You know it’s true. And you’re the same. You wouldn’t let me always be the one to decide.”

“Otherwise we’d endlessly eat pizza at that local joint with the tiny arcade.”

He trailed his hand down her back and cupped her bum. “Don’t start. You always complain, then consume enough veggie pizza for three people.”

“Okay, it’s not horrible.”

“And you always win at skeeball.”

Jemma beamed, but then her mouth fell open. “Fitz, you’re not letting me win, are you? So I’ll agree to go?”

He cracked up. “Hell no, who do you think I am? It drives me round the bend you’re so good at it. I will attempt to trounce you at skeeball anytime you want. Letting you win. I’m insulted.” Seriously, she was freaky good at it. It was unsettling.

There was a pause as she gazed at him and he pet her rear.

After a while, she shifted to face him. “Do you want to go out for pizza?” she asked, with a cheeky grin. “I feel like winning.”

He got his knees under him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

****

Fitz woke up warm and comfortable, with Jemma smushed against him.

She’d won at skeeball, again, and they’d had pizza and drank too much cheap beer before walking home. Jemma had serenaded him with something that sounded like an Elvis song, but she’d been butchering it and then pausing to giggle at herself. The result had been impossible to follow, but he hadn’t cared, just walked with his arm around her.

He raised his head, trying to see the alarm clock.

That was a mistake. Pain blared through his skull, and he groaned, laying back down and snuggling against Jemma.

They were together because when they’d made it to the flat, Jemma had gone on a rant about how they hadn’t cuddled enough after sex.

Fitz hadn’t had a clue who she was arguing with because she was right, like usual. After he’d told her so, he’d stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and ended up in her bed.

Where he currently was, with a massive hangover.

Jemma stirred, lifted her head, and wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

“Me too.”

She laid her head back on his shoulder but didn’t close her eyes. “Please tell me you have water close by.” Her face was pale, and if she felt as wonderful as he did, neither of them was going to be having breakfast that morning.

“I’ll get us some.”

Jemma answered by scooting off him and pulling the covers over her head. She had the cutest hangovers.

He walked to the kitchen with his eyes closed, grabbed two tall glasses, filled them with ice water, and plucked the Scrabble bag from the drawer on his way back.

Jemma sat up and accepted the glass, chugging it down. He watched, fascinated, as a drip escaped the corner of her mouth and slid down her neck to her shirt. It was difficult not to lean over and follow its trail with his tongue. He perched beside her on the edge of the mattress, sipping his own drink. The mornings after American beer were always the worst.

He dropped the bag of tiles beside Jemma. She smiled widely, winced, smiled less widely, and kept ahold of her glass with one hand as she shook the bag, opened it, and took out a letter: W.


	9. W

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: This is the second chapter I posted this week! Chapter 8 was posted on Thursday for my birthday, so make sure you've read that one first!_

Jemma did not feel well on Monday.

By Tuesday afternoon she was sniffing, her throat was sore, and she’d gone from being a little under the weather to downright miserably sick.

Which meant she was already behind at work. It was almost five o’clock, and she was sitting on a stool wearing two of Fitz’s cardigans. He came in bearing a mug of steaming tea that he handed to her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Richard’s in a snit.” Fitz placed his tools back in their spots as he tidied up his bench. “He caught me in the hallway and gave me a fantastically unrealistic timeline for having the material density sensor working.” He sighed.

Jemma sniffed. “Sorry, it’s my fault we’re behind.”

“Jemma you look like death warmed over—”

“Thank you, that’s very flattering.”

Fitz rolled his eyes. “And you look great…for someone that’s half dead.”

“Oh, you.” She sipped her Fitz-made tea. Which made it better than regular tea because it was made with…friendship. “I’m going to have to call in sick, aren’t I?”

Fitz walked over and put his hands on her shoulders. He looked right into her eyes. “Yes.”

“Damn it.” She bowed her head and leaned it against his chest. He patted her shoulder.

There was a sound from the hallway, and both she and Fitz glanced up. Molly was standing there, beaming at them.

“Did you need something?” Fitz asked her.

“Not really, but I think you should take your girlfriend home. She looks really sick.”

Jemma sighed. She got it. She was ill.

Fitz took a step back. “She’s my roommate, not my girlfriend, but I should get her home.” Jemma was glad he’d corrected her because why did everyone always assume Jemma and Fitz were a couple? As if they couldn’t work and live together without sex being involved. Well, it was right now—the image of Fitz grinning up at her from between her spread thighs ran through her mind—but that was an experiment, which meant it was different than if she’d picked him up at some bar. 

Molly deflated. “Damn. Okay. I hope you feel better, Jemma.” She waved and trotted off.

“What was that about?” Fitz asked.

Jemma sneezed and fished a tissue out from her pocket. “I don’t know, and I’m too sick to care.”

“Right, home with you.”

She spent the next two days in misery. It wasn’t fair that her version of the cold was so much worse than Fitz’s had been. She had no appetite, her nose was a leaky faucet, and her head ached constantly.

She tried to work from home, but by Friday she’d not been able to accomplish as much as she could in the lab. She made herself chicken soup for lunch and sat at her computer, determined to make a comprehensive report out of Fitz’s scribblings regarding the density sensor. It would have been a finished project if she’d not been sick, but Fitz had done what he could on his end, including fabricating a few parts that weren’t commercially available.

Richard was not pleased, but couldn’t do anything, except rant about how she better get her rear in gear the next week.

As she ate her soup and translated Fitz’s tirade on the poor material provided for the prototype into something acceptable to submit to a superior, an email notification popped up from Fitz.

‘Are we still on for tomorrow, or do we need to reschedule?’

Bloody hell, she’s been so sick and preoccupied with all the work she’d been missing that she hadn’t come up with anything, but she was certain she was well enough that she didn’t need to take a day off from their alphabet experiment. ‘I’ll be fine, just give me a minute to think.’

‘K.’

What could W possibly be? She could ask him to be wicked with her, though that was horribly vague. With her luck, he’d take her to see the musical. Jemma looked around the room. Wall sex? That had a lot of possibilities, especially because they’d already done a version of it, but she wasn’t at her best so that degree of coordination might not be a good idea. She stirred her soup, which was a little watery.

Wait, that was it! They could do it in the shower because W could be for water, as well as wet, which is what they would be. It would also be nice and warm, another good W, and the steam would keep her nose clear. Shower sex was a frequently mentioned sex act, but one she’d never done, mostly because she didn’t see the appeal.

Only…Fitz with his hair plastered down and streams of water running in rivulets down his back as he thrust into her…

Yes, that would do nicely.

She emailed Fitz, ‘W=wet’.

‘You’re going to get wet? :-)’

What was he on ab—oh, she needed to be clearer. ‘While I certainly plan on being aroused, I specifically meant that we would have sex in the shower’.

‘Double wet! :-) :-)’.

Jemma laughed. Fitz was very easy to make happy. She’d even gotten two smiley faces.

Another email popped up. ‘Should I stop and get something for dinner?’

‘Would Pad Thai be okay?’ She was feeling hungry for the first time in days.

‘Yes, please!’

****

On Saturday morning she felt a million times better than the day before. Her nose was still a little stuffy, but it wasn’t nearly so bad as it had been.

After a light breakfast, she returned to her bedroom and started working out the designs for experiments she was going to need to conduct next week. The sensor would be a very powerful tool combined with the echolocator, giving a field agent a swift way to map an area and identify what specific objects were. It would be revolutionary and lifesaving.

She didn’t know what Fitz was doing. She’d thought he was in his room, tinkering with the drone which obviously needed improved flight stabilization, but around lunchtime, she heard banging in the loo.

There was cursing, more noise, and then the shower turned on, then off, then on again, then off, then on.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she went to investigate. Fitz was standing half in the tub, his shirt soaked and his hair curling wildly as he tightened the fastening on what looked like a brand-new shower head. It was one of the ones with a separate handheld sprayer. She didn’t know what had been wrong with their conventional shower head that would make him want to change it. The room was nothing fancy, just a regular apartment shower, toilet, sink, and cupboard.

“What on earth are you up to?”

“I was just making sure this ruddy thing works like it’s supposed to.”

“And this ruddy thing is?”

His cheeks turned pink. “I, uh, I was doing some research, about today, and…well, there’s quite a bit out there about women using this sort of showerhead to get themselves off.”

“I’ve never done that.” She wasn’t even sure she wanted to. It always seemed like you’d end up with water being forced into places it didn’t belong.

He bounced on his toes. “I’m not entirely surprised, especially once I began looking at the available showerheads. None of them offered a setting that I thought would work for you specifically. So I modified one to meet your needs. It was a pain in the arse, but—” He removed the handheld sprayer from the hook and pointed to the head— “I notched it here for the special setting, and it should give you the right amount of stimulation without being too much water. I can’t wait to try it out on you later, and I’ll tweak it if I need to.”

A wave of warmth surged through her chest. “That’s incredibly thoughtful of you! I have to admit that I frequently don’t have the time to indulge in self-pleasure in the shower, but it’s wonderful to know I have the option.” She hugged him tight, and he hugged her back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I also put extra strips of that grippy stuff on the bottom of the tub, for safety.”

She hugged him tighter. He’d thought of keeping them injury free. He really was her best friend. Fitz shifted and started to pull his hips away from her. She didn’t let him. Grabbing his bum, she pulled him tight against her, making him yip. The evidence of his arousal pushed against her belly and she moaned. Her body was very, very happy to be close to his. Her breasts were heavy and achy and she rubbed them against his chest. Her sex pulsed and she could feel how slick she was growing.

“Should we go ahead and try it out?” Jemma asked breathlessly.

“I very much want to, but I haven’t shaved and look a fright. If you want to wait a tic, I can get myself presentable.”

Letting go of his rear, she put her palms on his cheeks. He did look a little scruffy, and the stubble rasped against her skin, but she found she didn’t mind in the least. She rolled her hips. “I do not want to wait.”

Fitz grinned. He still stepped back, but it was only to pull his shirt off.

Standing on the bathmat, she shimmied out of her jeans and knickers and took her top and sports bra off in one motion. Fitz’s hands froze on the zip of his trousers as he stared at her breasts. To tease him, she cupped them herself, kneading them. It felt good, but the hungry glint in his eyes was just as arousing.

Satisfied with how interested in her chest he was, she reached out one hand to run her fingers over his hard-on. She paused to help him push his trousers to his knees, then palmed his prick through his boxers. Fitz groaned, and his cock jerked against her hand.

“Am I allowed to ask a question?” he said in a low voice.

“Of course.” She stroked him, her toes curling because he’d soon be inside her and making her come. Her pussy pulsed with lust.

Fitz looked down at what she was doing with her hand. “Why do you like touching my…my…my cock through my clothes? It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but I’m curious.”

Jemma bit her lip, considering. “It’s like when you get a present on your birthday. You might know exactly what’s in the box, but it’s still fun to see it wrapped up, along with the fun of unwrapping it.”

“I think I understand.”

“Fitz, if you get a gift you just rip the paper right off.”

“I said I think I understand.”

She laughed and grabbed the waist of his boxers, pulling them down to free his cock. It stuck out nearly parallel to the floor, and her head spun from the sight. “I suppose we should get in the tub.”

Fitz nodded, then frowned. “Let me turn the water on.”

“Excellent idea.” Why hadn’t she thought of that? Though at this point the whole shower thing seemed superfluous, and she’d be fine with right where they were on the bathmat. Her pulse was pounding, and she very badly needed to get her hands on Fitz.

He got the shower started and turned to face her. “I better check if step one has been achieved.”

“Step one?” she asked. Instead of answering, Fitz put an arm around her while his other hand descended to stroke between her thighs.

Fitz moaned. “You’re so wet…and that’s step one. Wet one.”

Oh, right, double wet.

Fitz nibbled at her neck. “I want to fuck you so bad.” Jemma pushed herself against his fingers, hoping he might babble more. She wasn’t disappointed. “Do you want that, Jemma? Want my hard cock fucking your cunt?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’m going to make you come so hard, and I’m going to come inside you, pump you full, make you scream.” He kissed a path down to her chest. “I want to come on your tits. Paint them white, make them mine.”

She couldn’t let him do all the talking. “Suck them, please.”

He did what she asked, sucking a nipple into his mouth at the same time he pushed a finger into her channel. She gasped. Her legs shook as he drove her higher, and she had to clutch at his shoulders to keep upright.

His mouth and tongue danced over her, while his finger moved relentlessly, and the heel of his palm rubbed against her clit. He’d gotten so good at getting her off. Her orgasm was in reach when he stopped and straightened up. Jemma whimpered.

“Tub?” he asked hoarsely, fisting his prick. There was precum running down it, and her hips jerked as she watched.

“Ah, yes.” Shakily, she turned and took a step towards it. Her knees didn’t cooperate, and she would have fallen if Fitz wasn’t there to grab her. “I’m not sure I can or should have sex in an upright position right now.”

Fitz squeezed her. “Alright.” He studied the tub as he pressed his cock against her arse. “What if I laid down?”

She couldn’t quite picture what he meant, but she nodded anyway. After making sure she was steady, Fitz stepped over the rim of the tub. He grabbed the handheld showerhead, which didn’t have any water running through it at the moment, and set it down in the bottom of the tub. Fitz ducked under the spray, letting it sluice down his back and chest—Jemma licked her lips—then sat down and scooted around so his feet were facing the faucet.

His cock was resting on his belly, and he drew his fingers over it. “Like this you mean?” He sounded shy, in contrast to how dirty he’d been talking earlier, and she really did get the impression that what he said simply tumbled out.

“Yes. I want you very badly.”

He wrapped a hand around his cock and gestured at it with his head. “Come and get it, then.”

Laughing, she climbed into the tub and settled with her knees on either side of his hips. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it would work. Fitz put his hands on her legs and pushed her back, moving with her until the shower spray was cascading against her shoulders.

“Like that?” Fitz asked.

“Yes, but, I need—” With a growl, she broke off, lifted herself as she positioned the head of his cock at her opening, and sank onto him. Fitz squeezed his eyes shut as Jemma wiggled her hips, getting used to this new way of feeling him inside her.

“Can you feel how hard my cock is inside you? You’re so warm and wet it makes me ache to fuck you.”

Her toes curled in delight.

“Sorry,” he said, one eye-opening. “I can’t seem to stop.”

“That’s quite alright with me.”

His fingers wrapped around her hips. “You’ll let me know if I cross the line?”

“Certainly.” She had no idea what the line even was, but it was very far away indeed.

“Good, good, can you move now?”

Jemma rose up and dropped back down. Fitz groaned and thrust up towards her. She rolled her hips, leaned forward slightly, and worked on riding him.

Fitz made the most wonderful noises, and she wanted to giggle at the way he was struggling to open his eyes from time to time to watch her breasts. She played with the nipple on one while she used her other hand to pry Fitz’s hand off her hip. Weaving their fingers together, she used it to brace against as she worked herself on him.

It was heavenly. The stretch of her body around his cock, where it was hitting inside her, his expression of fierce concentration, and the warm spray of the shower against her back. The water was running down over her ass and thighs, stimulating her further.

She was impressed by how much Fitz was moving. He was thrusting up into, matching her pace, and it felt perfect. Like with any project they shared, he wasn’t letting her do all the work, which was one of the reasons she adored him.

Her stomach tightened, and the muscles in her legs quivered.

“Come for me, Jemma, I love feeling you come around my cock.”

“Oh, Fitz.” Her eyes closed as she teetered on the edge for a moment. Fitz shifted slightly and bucked up into her, and she cried out. The orgasm was sharp and bright, and she didn’t make a sound as it snapped through her. It seemed to last forever until it was over and she was sagging forward, held up by Fitz’s hands.

He was grinning. “Hi.”

“Hello,” she breathed.

“That felt amazing from my end.”

“I think I’m boneless.”

“Not a problem I’m having.” He jerked his hips, and she moaned, then laughed. “You’re impossible.” His grin became sly. “Now what are you up to?”

“I want to see if my modifications work.” He grabbed the handheld showerhead and turned it on. “This is regular.” He ran the normal spray over his chest. She bent over and chased a few drops of water with her tongue. Fitz whimpered when she flicked her tongue over his nipple, so she did it again. His hip rolled. She switched sides and did it again, with similar results.

He pushed on her shoulder with a hand, and she straightened up, pouting.

“Later,” he said, then held up the showerhead so it was hitting the side of the tub. “This is the closest setting it already had that I thought you’d like. I think it’s supposed to be massaging?” He changed the setting on the head, and the water became little jets. “Lean back.” She arched back and rested her hands on his thighs, and he directed the water at her clit.

She scrunched up her face at the feeling. It was kind of like a vibrator, but not really. “It’s nice, but I don’t think I would come.”

“I didn’t think you would either. Now try this.” He switched it to the notch he’d made. The spray was stronger and in a different pattern. Watching her closely, he directed it back to her clit.

Jemma inhaled sharply. “Oh my.” It was just right, almost like a tongue, but not quite, but the rhythm and force had her inner muscles clamping and her body tightening and. “Oh fuck!” She came again, the bliss softer and warmer as it rolled through her. The water disappeared after a few seconds, which she was grateful for, and Fitz stroked his hand over her face. She turned and sucked on his thumb as the last pulses of the orgasm faded.

Fitz was grinning like the cat that ate the canary when she opened her eyes. She ran her tongue around his thumb again and started to move her hips, thinking it should be his turn now after sending her to the stratosphere, but he stopped her.

“One sec. Something I want to do while I get off. Not that it’s going to take much more.”

He looked somewhat embarrassed as he pulled his thumb from her lips and twisted to grab her shampoo.

“What are you going to do?”

Fitz still looked shy as he picked up the handheld showerhead again and turned it to the normal setting. “Can I wash your hair?”

“Of course.”

“You really are a dream.” He had her tilt her head back as he wet her hair. With shampoo on his palms, he started massaging her scalp as he began thrusting again. She moved with him, encouraging him along. His fingers felt good in his hair, and she moaned softly.

Fitz hadn’t been kidding about being close. He picked up speed quickly, groaning, then dug his hands into her hair, hunched until his face was against her tits, and churned his hips raggedly until he came with a hoarse cry.

She cradled him against her, pushing down with her pelvis as his cock pulsed deep inside her.

At last, he sighed and relaxed. Jemma ran her hands lightly over his face, chest, and neck, and he looked like he would be purring if he could.

“We should stand and wash off,” she said after a couple of minutes. Their building had a huge boiler, so hot water wasn’t an issue, but the shampoo in her hair was. Her knees against the tub were also rapidly becoming uncomfortable.

“If you say so.”

Jemma slid off his softening cock and stood as a rush of cum dripped down her thigh. Fitz climbed to his feet as well. He helped her rinse her hair and took her poof after she dumped body wash on it and thoroughly cleaned all of her, though she suspected her breasts and rear ended up a bit cleaner than the rest. They switched so Fitz was under the spray, and she insisted she shampoo his hair. Which was very soothing to her as he stood there, eyes closed, and simply enjoyed it.

She washed him too with his manly dark grey poof and shower gel that was ridiculously called ‘Arctic Breeze’. She was certain nothing in the arctic smelled anything remotely like it did. Jemma didn’t feel the least bit bad about spending extra time sudsing up his bum.

Cleaned and rinsed, they turned off the shower and got out. Fitz wrapped his towel around his waist and took her fluffy one and began drying her off. “Debrief?” he asked, voice low.

She considered for a moment, considering how wonderful she felt versus the awkwardness of being in the tub. “I enjoyed myself, but I’m not sure I’d want to do that exact thing again. Though that showerhead was absolute genius, Fitz.”

“Thank you.” He looked very proud of himself. “And my back agrees with you. That was our first only once thing. At least in the tub. You on top was wonderful.”

“I quite enjoyed that too. And all the other stuff, the hair and body washing, that was a very enjoyable post-coital experience. Though I think it would make good foreplay, too. I wouldn’t mind starting that way before moving to the bedroom.”

“Agreed.” He wrapped the towel around her back and tugged her forward until they were hugging, her head on his shoulder and her face towards the bathroom mirror that was clouded over.

She held him for a long time, until the steam in the room started to abate and their shape in the mirror went from blurry to focused. It was a nice picture, two friends holding each other close. She turned and pressed her nose into his neck. He smelled clean.

Fitz kissed her temple and let her go. It was far too early to go to bed, so she dressed in loose-fitting pajamas, pulled her hair up, and sat down on her bed with her laptop to continue working. Fitz, also wearing pajama bottoms along with a t-shirt with a few holes and a stretched-out collar, appeared in her doorway a moment later, drone and tablet in hand.

Jemma patted the bed beside her, and he sat down cross-legged and connected the drone to the tablet with a cord before working on the programming for it.

They stopped for dinner, then watched old Knight Rider reruns on TV as they continued to work. She sat with her feet in Fitz’s lap, and it was the same as ever, except now he’d occasionally stroke his fingers absentmindedly over them while he was thinking. The touching was nice and homey. She felt very warm and comfortable, enough so that when it was time for bed, she didn’t want to be by herself and took his hand as they shuffled down the hallway and led him to her room. He spooned against her back and put an arm around her without her even asking, and she fell asleep with a light heart.

****

In the morning, she let herself sleep in with Fitz. He was on his back, and she was curled up against his side. It wasn’t until both their mobiles started chiming incessantly that they sat up. Fitz’s was still in the living room, but hers was beside the bed.

She squinted at the screen. “It’s Richard. He’s in a panic. The top SHIELD brass want to see results, not only from us, but from the entire office.”

“Do we have to go in?” Fitz flopped back on the bed with a groan.

“Not today, but it sounds like it’s going to be a busy week or two. We should get started here with what we can.”

“Terrific. Does this mean I can have bacon?”

She eyed him. “Two pieces along with strawberries. And I’m making mushroom and green pepper omelets. We need eggs to fuel our brains.”

“I’ll get the tea.”

They busied themselves in the kitchen. Jemma was happy with how her omelets turned out, and she made Fitz three pieces of bacon because he did deserve it after yesterday. Also, she didn’t want him grumpy before lunch.

She set down the eggs, strawberries, and bacon on the table, and Fitz sat down with their mugs of tea. They were halfway through breakfast before she remembered the Scrabble tiles.

“We need to pick for next week,” she said, standing and rushing to the cabinet to get the bag and bring it back. She opened the top and offered it to him.

Without any preamble, Fitz shoved his hand in the bag and swiftly withdrew a tile. He held it up: Q.


	10. Q

Fitz chucked his tablet, gently, onto his quilt. He almost had the blasted calibrations figured out. He ruffled a hand through his hair. Tired had been three hours ago; now he was exhausted. But this work could save lives, and resources, and be a real help to agents under fire. He had a duty. One that would make him work right through the blasted weekend.

It was only Wednesday night, and the week had already seemed like it was a million years long. Everyone at work was stressed out and not taking care of themselves as they rushed to provide results. As if it was possible to hurry what he and Simmons were doing and still have reliable results.

He swung his legs off the side of the bed. The same problem had been plaguing him for the last fifteen minutes. Bouncing ideas off Jemma always helped, and she wouldn’t care he was in his boxers and an old t-shirt. He needed a fresh perspective.

Marching down the hall, he opened her door. “Jemma, I…” He trailed off as Jemma, who was standing beside her bed in her robe, spun around with something clutched in her hands.

“Fitz! You didn’t knock.” Her face was pink.

“I had a question about—” He cocked his head, staring at what she was holding. It looked a bit like a microphone. “What is that?”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “It’s a vibrator, Fitz. I don’t often use one, but I’m tired, and wanted to get off.”

“What about your dildo?”

“That’s preferable, but with this, I just have to lie there and hold it to my clit. I want stress relief, not a workout.”

He walked forward and plucked it from her hands. Her face was even pinker now though he didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know she masturbated. The wand-like device, with a soft head, was shaped more like a stick blender than a sex toy. He flipped the switch on. It had two settings: low and high. Low seemed pathetic, and high was sort of scary.

“This is really the best you’ve got?” he said, holding it up to study the head better.

Jemma sighed dramatically. “Just ask your question, then let me get back to dealing with my stress.”

“This thing looks like it would cause stress. And if you’re going to use this shite thing for relief, you must be in a bad way. It’ll be useless for me to try to get ideas out of you.”

“Can I have my vibrator back now?”

He glared down at the contraption. “Do you use something else for penetration while you—”

“Fitz!”

“I’m serious. This isn’t going to help you!” He shook it at her. “I’ll make you a better one.” He dropped it on the floor. Who’d designed that piece of rubbish?

Jemma crossed her arms. “I still would like to use that, whether or not you approve.”

Obviously, Fitz would not get any more work done tonight, especially not with Jemma in such a mood. But he knew how to make her feel better. He sat on the edge of her bed and tugged at her robe. “Off and lay down.”

Her nose wrinkled up. “Fitz—”

“I’m bloody exhausted, and I want to extract our boss’ brain through his nose with a set of pliers. You’re frustrated enough to try using that terrible thing. I don’t care if we’re not following the rules, or whatever. You need help and I—” He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers “—can give it to you. Now yes or no?”

Jemma’s shoulder’s slumped, and he grinned. Victory! He stood, pulled back her sheets, and got under them, scooting over to give her room. Jemma took off her robe, hung it on its hook, and lay down on her back. He wiggled over until he was on his side right next to her, his head propped up on his hand.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“It’s an investment. I need you to be optimum tomorrow.”

She smiled, and he laughed, pressing a kiss to her temple before trailing his fingers down her body to her pussy. Unlike any other time he’d ever touched her there, she wasn’t wet.

“Are you sure you want to get off?” he asked, confused.

Jemma sighed. “Yes, I feel like I need to.”

“You’re just not…er.”

She gave a louder sigh. “The waterworks are for what we do together. I’m usually nowhere near that turned on.”

Fitz licked his lips. That was interesting information. Sucking on a finger, he got it good and wet before returning to her pussy and rubbing her clit. Jemma’s eyes slid shut, and she cupped a breast to fiddle with the nipple.

It took a few minutes of work before she became more aroused, making tiny, sweet noises as her slickness grew. That was much better. Fitz’s cock agreed, standing at attention in his shorts and obviously confused that it wasn’t needed.

Fitz slid two fingers into Jemma’s opening, and she gasped, lifting her hips as he moved them in and out of her while continuing to use his thumb on her clit. Her responses were adorable. After a few more minutes, she tensed and cried out. He doubted it was an earth-shattering orgasm, but it should make her feel a little better. He continued his movements, and it took her less than a minute to have a second. She hid her face against his shoulder as she twitched with it.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment. “I’m doing so much better.”

“I’m glad.” He ran a hand over her hair. “I should go now.” He threw back the quilt and had just slid his leg over when Jemma’s hand caught his shirt.

“What about you?” She looked pointedly down at his not-so-subtle hard-on that was attempting to escape his shorts.

“I’ll be fine. Quick wank and I’ll be out until morning.”

“Honestly.” He didn’t have time to ask what she meant before she was pushing him down and leaning over his groin. Jemma didn’t bother pulling his boxers off, just freed his cock through the flap and sucked it into her mouth. He should argue with her. She’d said the entire point was she didn’t want to do anything, but her hot mouth was around his prick, and really, Jemma had won this argument before it’d even happened.

She bobbed her head, cupped him through his pants, and it wasn’t long before he exploded into her mouth. Jemma swallowed, smiled softly at him as she returned his cock to inside his shorts, twisted to turn off the lamp, and cuddled against him as she drew the quilt over both of them.

Him staying was also an argument she’d already won.

“Night,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

She mumbled something but was already mostly asleep. Fitz soon joined her.

****

By Friday, Fitz was snapping at everyone that wasn’t Jemma, and occasionally her too. They were making progress and had four of the sensors fully functional with carefully detailed schematics and lengthy reports. The fifth was getting close as well, though the parts for the miniature sniffer weren’t easy to miniaturize. Fitz had thrown his last attempt across the room and was pacing.

Jemma was running simulations that all seemed to be failing in new, different and unique ways.

“There’s no getting out of working this weekend, is there?” she said glumly, chin on her hand as she watched another simulation end in failure.

“Nope. We’ll be here Saturday and Sunday.”

“I can hardly wait.” She looked at him. “What’s that going to mean for the other experiment? Our home one?”

Fitz scratched at his cheek. “Well, the only thing I’ve been able to come up with is ‘quickie’, which I supposed we could do here.”

Jemma’s eyes lit up, and she bit her lip. “I’ll forgive you this once for not emailing it.”

“I’ll do it later.”

True to his word, he emailed her right before they headed home. In the car, she started planning.

“We need to have a set time.”

“Is during lunch okay? We’re usually in one of our offices anyway.”

“Good thinking. Sex, then eat. And we need to be ready. I’ll wear a skirt.”

Fitz looked at her, then had to stomp on the brakes as he almost rearended someone. Jemma hardly ever wore skirts, but it would give such easy access. “Skirt, yes,” he said weakly.

Jemma didn’t seem to be aware he’d nearly killed them. “And we should text beforehand, talk dirty and work each other up. That way, when we’re together, it won’t take very long.”

“That is the definition of a quickie.”

Jemma looked thoughtful. “Whose office?”

“Mine,” he said without hesitation. “It’d be nice to have one good memory in that closet.”

She beamed at him. “Excellent. I think this will be a lot of fun.”

“I’m sure it will, but we should really be talking about the sniffer. Did you have any successful simulation runs?”

“Almost?”

He sighed. They were doomed.

****

_Saturday, Lunch_

The chair protested as Fitz shifted in it and eyed the clock. It was inching slowly towards when Simmons would show up, and he was supposed to bang her brains out competently and quickly.

This had been a terrible idea. They’d get caught. And fired. Or court marshaled—SHIELD didn’t really fire people—or sent to work at separate facilities. The last one would be impossible. He couldn’t do anything without Jemma. He hadn’t had to since he was sixteen. No one else understood how his mind worked or could follow his logic leaps.

No one else knew how he liked his tea.

Not seeing her every day sounded like hell. They couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t risk not working beside her. He picked up his mobile with the intent of canceling when it beeped with a message from Simmons.

He opened it. It was a picture of her hand with her knickers dangling off one finger and the message, **I’m** **getting ready, are you?**

Fuck.

He looked at the clock. Ten minutes to go. His heart was going to beat out of his chest. Okay, they could do this and not get caught. It’d be fine, and the afternoon would be so much more productive after they got off.

Fitz went to reply, but his mind blanked. All he could think of was Jemma in her skirt with no knickers, wet and hot and…wait, he could tell her that.

 **Can’t wait to feel your wet heat around my prick**.

Her response was immediate. **I’m already getting slick imagining you thrusting into me.**

Fitz closed his laptop and moved it along with his papers and pens off his desk.

 **I’m going to fuck you so hard** , he sent.

**My breasts ache I want your hands on them so badly.**

Fitz’s cock was very interested in that one. He shifted in his chair again, but not from nerves this time. He opened the camera on his phone, pulled the material taut over his erection, snapped a pic, and sent it to her.

He rubbed himself through the fabric, wishing it was her hand and not his.

His mobile beeped **. I can’t wait any longer. Undo your trousers.**

The phone clattered as he set it on a shelf and hastily undid the snap and zip. His office door opened and Jemma, flushed and bright-eyed, slipped in and closed it behind her.

Fitz stood, pushed down his trousers and pants, and caught Jemma as she hurled herself at him. He directed her back towards his desk, the motion awkward as her hands headed straight to his cock and stroked him.

“Jems,” he gasped against her hair. She moaned as he helped her hop up on the desk and spread her legs.

The fingers of one of her hands slid into his hair, and for a second he was lost and couldn’t understand why they weren’t kissing. He planted ones along her jaw, heading for her mouth, wanting to thrust his tongue between her lips as badly as he wanted to thrust his prick into her pussy.

But then she was tugging on his cock, pulling him closer, and her mouth went to his ear. “Fuck me, Fitz.”

Right, that’s what he was doing.

Jemma’s skirt was already hiked up and his cock brushed her slick folds. He fisted himself and got the head into position.

Jemma leaned back, spreading her legs even wider. With a grunt, he pushed in until he was as deep as possible. His gaze locked with hers as she used one hand to squeeze her breast through her jumper, then sent it down to rub at her clit.

He thrust a few times shallowly, working up to a fast pace. It wasn’t going to take him that long fucking her like this, with all her need and desire on display. It would be very embarrassing if he popped off well before she —

Jemma mewled, hitched her hips, held her breath, and came with a soft squeak.

Her pussy was still pulsing as she sat more upright, her hands skittering down his back to grab his ass and dig her nails in.

“You want me?” she purred in his ear.

Well, obviously.

“Tell me.”

Her request clicked. “I want to fuck you into the bloody ground. Your cunt’s so slick and greedy, swallowing my cock. I was rock hard before you even came in here, just thinking about how much I want you.” His voice sounded hoarse, and he never had any clue where the words came from, but Jemma seemed to enjoy him babbling like an idiot.

Jemma groaned, and her teeth bit into his shoulder as she came again.

Fuck.

He untangled them and pulled out. Jemma looked confused for a moment, right until he hooked one of her legs over his elbow. He needed access, this entire thing was very awkward, being on his desk, and as she’d gotten off twice, it was his turn.

Jemma’s expression was one of awe as he thrust roughly back inside her—no hands needed at this point—and humped her wildly. Usually, he’d think he was a jerk for doing something like this, as it felt fantastic from his end but probably not hers, but they needed to hurry or they weren’t going to get lunch.

His breathing was harsh, and he bit his lips and closed his eyes right before he came. He shoved deep into her, and something fell off the desk, but he didn’t care. Not while his prick was unloading inside Jemma and she was squeezing him and making pleased little noises.

As soon as he was done, he kissed her cheek and slid from her body.

She hopped up and looked at the clock. “We need to hurry if we’re going to get anything to eat.”

“I’m trying.” He was fumbling to get his shirt tucked back in and his trousers done up. He had to stop and stare as Jemma removed her knickers from a pocket along with a tissue. She cleaned up, tossed the rubbish, and deftly slipped on the bit of satin and lace passing for underwear. Jemma smoothed her skirt down and then helped Fitz get himself presentable.

She finger-combed his curls with a tsk.  “There, I don’t think we look too much like we just had exemplary sex on your desk.”

He retrieved the pen that’d rattled off onto the floor. “I mostly believe you.”

Jemma rolled her eyes and opened the door, walking right into Milton.

“Sorry!” he yipped. Fitz sighed. Was the entire office here this weekend?

“Milton,” Jemma said with a grimace. “Why are you lurking outside of Fitz’s office?” She sounded suspicious, and Fitz glared at him. Was he trying to steal their project ideas? Was Milton that desperate?

“I was more…standing around,” he said.

“Waiting on me!” Sherri chirped, appearing out of a door further down the hallway. Milton looked relieved.

“Right,” Fitz said. “Simmons and I lost track of time.”

Sherri’s eyed darted back and forth between Fitz and Jemma. “I bet you did.”

“I’m glad you understand how time-consuming writing reports can be,” Jemma said with a smile that didn’t look remotely real.

“Uh, yeah. Reports.” Sherri deflated.

“Yes, reports,” Jemma said. “I’m assuming you have to make those even with qualitative research.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Now if you excuse us, all this work has given me quite an appetite, and there’s not much of our lunch break left.” Jemma strode down the hallway. Fitz gave Milton and Sherri a shrug before hurrying after her.

Right before turning the corner, he glanced back. Milton and Sherri were leaning their heads together and whispering. It hit him that perhaps of both of them had tried to pry ideas out of Jemma and himself by dating them. That was a horrible thought, but Milton and Sherri were acting odd now that they were exs.

Maybe he’d bring it up with Jemma after all the hoopla of this weekend was done.

She’d have some idea if his suspicions were correct.

****

 Fitz’s alarm blared early the next morning.

He shoved his laptop aside, having fallen asleep while working, and rolled to his feet. After visiting the loo, he dressed in a very worn pair of jeans, a t-shirt with a hole in the armpit, and his cardigan with the frayed collar. He haphazardly shoved his computer in its bag and stuck his mobile in his pocket.

Jemma made a face at him as he came out of his room.

“What?” he grumbled while sliding a worn pair of trainers on.

“Fitz, you look like hell.”

“If I have to go to the office on Sunday, I am wearing comfortable clothes and not shaving.”

She grimaced at him. “Your hair isn’t even combed.”

“Too bad. Not all of us can be fashion plates.”

“Well, thank you, but the barista at Starbucks is going to wonder why I’m treating a homeless ruffian to tea.”

He waved at the door, and she went with a sigh.

At Starbucks, Fitz opted for the drive-through. As they waited in line behind ten other cars, Jemma leaned back in her seat. “We didn’t debrief.”

“Totally forgot while I was snarfing my lunch down like I was in jail.”

She turned her face towards him. “Well?”

“I was really worried we’d get in trouble. I know we can date because we’re not field agents but having sex on the clock at work is probably frowned on.” He held up a finger as Jemma opened her mouth and she subsided. “I stopped thinking about all of that once I knew you took your knickers off.” Jemma grinned. “And it was fun. I rather have more time, but in a pinch, it’s not something I’d rule out doing again. Might bend you over the desk next time though.”

Jemma looked very pleased. “That would be nice. I enjoyed myself completely. I like feeling naughty.”

“I’m learning so much about you.”

She laughed. “And when you put your arm under my leg? Fitz, that was—” She broke off and her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply. “That was amazing. I’m learning a lot about you too.”

His face was warming up. “Glad you liked that. I felt a little selfish hammering away.”

“I liked it.” She wiggled in her seat and pressed her legs together. Fitz didn’t realize the car in front of him in line had moved up until someone loudly honked their horn. Jemma poked his side as he inched forward.

“Next week,” he started. “Bloody hell, we didn’t choose a letter.”

Jemma grinned. “Luckily, I brought the bag.”

“Bless you,” he said, but then it was their turn, at the window, and he had to pay and accept their tea in a drink carrier along with his bagel and yogurt.

Once they were back on the road, Jemma fished the bag out and put it one of the empty spots in the drink tray. Fitz stopped at a red light, next to a black SUV with bass pounding loud enough to give him the beginnings of a headache.

Jemma stuck her hand in the bag and pulled a tile out.

“What is it?” he said, having to speak up to be heard over the music.

Jemma said something, frowned, and raised her voice. “Y.”


	11. Y

_Tuesday_

Jemma sighed, being at the office over the weekend made the days all blend together.

But they were so close to being done with the first set of mostly functional prototypes. They looked rough and were just tiny sensors set in Petri dishes, but they showed what she and Fitz were capable of. The schematics and reports that went along with each one were highly detailed and described what more testing and higher quality parts would be able to add to the project.

In the break room, she brewed tea and stared bleakly at the CSI rerun on the ancient TV that hung in one corner. The characters were doing a hideous job of collecting forensics on a murder scene, risking contamination at every turn. It was a relief when the kettle steamed, and she was able to focus on pouring tea into old Academy mugs for her and Fitz.

After this week, well, weeks, they needed a vacation and a chance to not think about work at all.

She walked past Molly in the hallway who was excitedly looking at her mobile.

“Jemma,” Molly said, and Jemma turned around, trying to look happy that she’d been interrupted while carrying tea. “I need your opinion on something.”

“Of course.”

“My new boyfriend is going to take us on vacation and wants me to choose a destination.”

Goody. “That’s wonderful, Molly, what are your options?”

“He wants sand and sun, so either the Caribbean or Mexico.”

Steve must have more money than Jemma had realized. “I think the Caribbean. It’s classic. Maybe somewhere a little out of the way?”

“Let me show you the two resorts.” Molly gleefully clicked through two sets of pictures, both of which looked glamorous. Was Steve made of money? The blue water and white sand were inviting. “Aren’t they both amazing? How am I supposed to decide?”

“Longing on a chair under an umbrella with an ocean breeze does sound amazing.”

“You and Fitz should go!” Molly raised her head to look at Jemma.

Jemma laughed. “He’d be as red as a lobster in no time. And complaining about the sand. But we need to get away soon, just not that far.”

“Together?” Molly’s expression became sly.

“Because of our work schedules, we usually have to vacation at the same time, plus having a familiar face in a strange place is nice.”

Molly’s forehead scrunched up. “Um—”

“And I still think the Caribbean. The food looked better.”

“Thank you. You’re probably right.”

Jemma nodded and hurried to the lab before the tea got any colder. It would be nice to get away with Fitz. The stress had been flattening both of them lately. She couldn’t help the images that tumbled through her head of being naked with him on a huge hotel bed, warm sunlight filling the room, her riding him as they…continued their experiment.

In the lab, she handed Fitz his mug and sipped at her own. She watched him as he frowned at the sensor he was working on. It was the one to identify trace amounts of organic matter, which was massively difficult to miniaturize, and Jemma was determined to make her version much better than the clunky original.

Fitz paused and rubbed at his temples. He looked miserable.

“Do you want to get away this weekend?” she asked. “Take a trip?”

He blinked at her. “Where?”

“We could drive up to Cape Cod, rent a cabin. There’s a beach.”

“If it doesn’t involve a lot of people, I’m in.” He set his mug down and returned to poking at the sensor.

Jemma managed not to say something about hurrying up and finishing his tea because while there was almost nothing it could contaminate at the moment, and no open chemicals to contaminate it, she still felt guilty about having a drink in a lab.

She sat and pulled out her mobile and looked for a cabin to rent. She found one that had just had a reservation canceled. It had access to the beach and was a fair distance from any other structure and even had trees around it to provide privacy. It wasn’t posh, but the thought of spending Saturday alone with Fitz goaded her into making a booking.

It being relatively isolated even gave her an idea for Y. She turned to admire Fitz again as he worked on the sensor, his hands steady and fingers deft. This was going to be so much fun.

****

_Friday_

The prototypes were completed and the reports all submitted. They were leaving first thing Saturday morning to drive the hour and a bit to the rental, and Jemma had insisted they get their bags packed Thursday night, despite Fitz’s grumbling. She’d made it easy on him and given him a list of what he needed to bring.

Today they were both catching up on other work. Jemma had spent the morning cataloging bacteria growth for a long-running experiment.

Fitz got hijacked for an engineering meeting at lunch, which left her in her office alone to eat. And email Fitz.

She typed a quick message on her laptop. ‘Y=yelling.’

It was a few before she got a response. ‘Just in general?’

Jemma rolled her eyes despite being alone. ‘As in, we’re loud while having sex.’

‘K.’

She stared at the short response. Fitz was in a meeting, so he probably couldn’t properly respond, but the letter felt judgmental. It was a perfectly fine request for them to be less inhibited and more vocal with their sounds during sex. They were experimenting. How was she supposed to know if she liked it if she didn’t try?

Her resolution grew as she ate her sandwich and yogurt.

It was her choice, and he was going to like it whether he wanted to or not. Though she thought she had an item, an extra that’d come in their box of adult toys, that would make the trip even more special, and Fitz would certainly be yelling.

****

Saturday morning, they dressed casually, and Fitz forwent shaving again, and piled into their little car for the drive. The traffic was terrible, and they arrived at the address around ten, after a stop in the nearby small town to pick up the keys.

Getting out, Jemma stretched her legs and took her luggage from the boot. Fitz was staring at the cabin.

“It’s very quaint,” he said. The place was a box, painted sea-green with white trim, and had a screened-in porch with a table. The windows, rectangles that sat high on the wall, looked like they hadn’t been changed since the 60s.

Fitz unlocked the door, walked in, and immediately stuck his head back out. “It’s just as ‘quaint’ inside,” he said, laughing.

“It was very available,” Jemma said under her breath, trying not to make a face at the 70s decor of a green shag rug and wood paneling. At least the small kitchen was from the 80s, and there was driftwood piled by the fireplace for later.

They stowed their luggage and the groceries Jemma had insisted they bring, then changed for a walk along the beach. Jemma slung a bag over her shoulder with a book for her and Fitz’s tablet so he could work on his drone design. She also included a towel, water, and a few snacks.

The walk from the cabin to the shore only took a minute. The sounds of the sea were audible from the cabin itself. The weather was good with a light salt-scented breeze blowing off the ocean. They took off their flip-flops and walked down to where tiny waves were washing ashore.

Jemma closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “I needed this,” she said. Warm fingers intertwined with hers, and she opened them to find Fitz gazing at her with a faint smile.

“Me too,” he said. “I’m glad we’re here.”

She kissed his knuckles, and they wandered along the strand, Jemma pointing out and naming different birds as they wheeled overhead. They found a driftwood log to sit against and watch the waves while they chewed on granola bars. Jemma read, and Fitz poked at his tablet, switching between the drone design and a game.

They stayed there, enjoying the ocean and they company, until their stomachs rumbled, then they walked back, and headed into town for an early dinner.  The weather was still beautiful when they returned to the little cabin, and they spent the first part of the evening chatting about potential future projects—Jemma was very excited about the possibilities of dendrotoxins—over a small fire while sitting in Adirondack chairs and nursing beers. When the bugs drove them inside, Fitz claimed the couch and messed with his tablet, and Jemma tided up, making sure her bag was placed on her side of the bed.

“I like being able to hear the waves,” Jemma said. She turned out most of the lights and came to look out the big bay window, watching the stars. Fitz grunted, and rose from the couch, coming to stand behind her. His hands trailed down her back to her hips where he gathered the material of her blouse in them. She lifted her arms as he pulled in over her head and dropped it to the floor.

He tugged her capris and knickers down her legs, and she stepped out of them. The last was her bra, which ended up in a pile with everything else. He cupped her breasts and rested his chin on her shoulder as he played with them.

“I like this view best myself.”

“Are you trying to be smooth?”

“Is it working?”

“I’m naked.”

“There you go.” He plucked her nipples, and she moaned. Loudly.

Fitz laughed, biting her shoulder to muffle it. “I’m sorry, Jemma, but…I can’t tell if that’s sexy or just silly.”

She sighed. “The point is yelling and being loud because we’re alone in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, but…I’m not sure I’ll be able to.”

Jemma swiveled in his arms to face him. His hands settled on her bum. “Is that a challenge?”

He pursed his lips. “Not sure.”

“On the bed with you.”

Fitz went to undo his pants, but she batted his hand away and pointed at the bed. He did as told, lying on his back, his face turned towards her. There was an obvious tent in the front of his trousers, and she licked her lips as she considered him. She must have taken too long because his expression became worried and he held a hand out. “Jemma?”

She hurried to the bed, the old springs protesting as she straddled him. He took her hand and tugged her down, holding her close. She pressed her lips to his neck, feeling faintly like she was missing something, but that dissipated as Fitz stoked her back and bucked his erection against her.

Jemma pushed herself upright. She was on a mission.

Pushing up his shirt, she trailed her fingers over his chest. She liked the bit of dark hair he had, and she teased it with her fingernails before leaning over to lick his nipple. Fitz wiggled, grabbing her arse and tugging her hips down.

“Impatient,” she scolded, and Fitz whimpered.

“It’s been a whole week. I don’t want to wait.” His expression was surly.

She clucked her tongue. “We never talked about the last time we broke the rules. This isn’t about just scratching an itch. It’s experimentation, trying new things and learning together.” Fitz’s scowl deepened.  “So in the interests of furthering our knowledge, I got something for us to try that will help with your impatience.”

“Yeah? What.” He was in full on grump mode, though she was enjoying it much more than usual.

She moved off him. “Take your trousers off, and I’ll show you.”

His brows drew together, but he did as she asked while she retrieved the cock ring from her bag beside the bed. Fitz returned to lying on his back, stroking his erection and eyeing her. She held up the red plastic ring.

“What the bloody hell is that? A tiny donut?”

She bent down to his groin. “It’s a cock ring, silly. I was planning to use it on you.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s not for all the other fellows hereabouts.” Jemma barely managed not to laugh, which she supposed she shouldn’t do when she was looking at Fitz’s cock, and he was incredibly put out over not being allowed just to screw her, but she enjoyed their time together too much to have it be over as quickly as it would be that way.

She nudged his hand aside and swept her tongue up his shaft before sucking the head into her mouth. Fitz groaned, and his hips jerked. She laved his cock, getting him nice and slick before pushing herself up and sliding on the cock ring, snugging it around the base. He raised his head and frowned.

“Feels weird.”

“That’s part of the fun. It should make it harder for you to come.”

Fitz’s face scrunched up. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try.”

“Thanks, that’s the same advice you gave when it came to cauliflower, and as it turns out, I still didn’t like it.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t having sex with you while you were eating the cauliflower.”

“That’s a fair point.”

She sucked on his cock again until she could tell the ring was having an effect. He was always hard for her, but now his poor prick looked like it was straining, which made her very eager to take care of it.

She straddled him, fisting his cock, and angled it, so she was easily able to impale herself on it. She groaned loudly at the stretch.

“Fuck, Jemma. Is that how you wanted me? Fucking rock hard and stuffed in your pussy?”

“Yes, please.”

Fitz moaned as she rolled her hips. He bent his arms and offered his palms to her. Jemma interlaced their fingers and moved with more determination, working herself on his cock. And the ring. It unexpectedly was helping her, bumping against her clit as she rode him.

“Jemma,” Fitz said. “I take it back, you’re a genius, and it feels so good. Still a bit like there’s a tiny donut around my prick, but it’s a nice donut.”

She wanted to say something back, but her climax was fast approaching. Fitz let go of one of her hands to knead her breast. She mewled and tilted her head back. “Fitz, I’m going to come.”

“Come on my cock,” he gasped. “Come for me. Bloody hell, yes, squeeze all you want.”

Her pussy was tightening. Jemma frantically churned her pelvis, dropping her free hand down to brush her clit. That was it. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, Fitz, now. I’m going to...” She broke off into a moan. Fitz was lifting his hips, helping her along. “Yes! Yes, yes, oh…yes!” She’d been planning on yelling her head off when she came, but only had the air for a tiny squeak.

Fitz grabbed her arse with both hands, leaving her to brace herself on his chest as she shuddered through the waves of pleasure. He was so good to her, took such good care of her. Fitz was really the only thing she needed.

Feeling a little light-headed, she pulled off his cock, even as he tried to keep her there, and scooted down to suck him back into her mouth. The taste was tart from her cream.

Fitz groaned, and his fingers sank into her hair. “Suck me, Jemma, I love…your hot mouth on me.” 

She bobbed her head, fitting as much of his cock in as she could and stroking the rest with her hand. He lasted longer in her mouth than she’d been expecting, even with the ring, but his increasingly loud and frustrated moans were too entertaining for her to complain.

“Jemma, take that ruddy thing off. I need to come.”

“No. You can come with it on.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. Let me keep going.” She sucked harder and moved her head faster. Fitz groaned, arching off the bed. She fondled his sac, circling her thumb over his balls while cupping them, and sneaking a finger back to press at his perineum.

“Jemma!” His hips lifted again. “Fucking hell. Let me come. I’m going to explode. Please, for the love of god, let me come.” He was yelling. Success tasted sweet and a little like precum. Jemma didn’t relent. Fitz’s hands dropped and his fingers twisted into the sheets. “Please!” His sac was drawing up, and she hummed in encouragement.

His legs were stiff, the muscles in his thigh taunt, and his belly sucked in as he teetered on the edge.

“Fuck, Jemma, I’m…please. Oh…FUCK ME.” He roared as his cock bucked and he shot into her mouth. She continued to caress and suck him as he trembled and his prick pulsed.

When he was finally lying still and panting, she removed the ring, set it on the nightstand, and turned off the lamp before cuddling beside him.

“You were very loud there at the end,” she said, stroking his chest.

He put a hand over his face. “Are we debriefing?”

“I suppose. I liked the ring, it rubbed against my clit while I was fucking you, and that helped me get off.”

Fitz grunted and stretched out his legs. “It felt weird.” He rolled towards her. “I’m not entirely sure I enjoyed it. My brain’s still scrambled from the orgasm, it felt amazing, but I’m actually a little on the fence. I think the best part for me was…” he trailed off and put his other hand over his face.

“Tell me.” She lightly bit his side, and he jerked.

“Ah. Quit. Fine, I liked the feeling that you had…I don’t know, power over me, I guess.”

Her toes curled. “I kind of liked you begging.” Fitz dropped his hands, and they looked at each other, then away. He had bought those restraints after all, and she’d been thinking they were for her, but this changed her mind completely. “Thank you for trying something so outside your comfort level. If you ever want to use it again, please ask. I won’t bring it up, otherwise.” He nodded and adjusted so his arm was around her. “We also need to talk about rule breaking.”

“Do we?”

“Yes, because the entire point of this is so that we expand our sexual repertoire and don’t have to worry about being distracted from work. We have to have rules, or we’ll end up in a muddled mess.” Fitz frowned, and Jemma felt odd about her own words. “It’s like we don’t kiss. We have to have boundaries.”

Fitz nodded, but she could tell he was still turning it over in his mind as his hand stroked her arm. “Alright,” he finally said. “I understand. It can’t interfere with work. I agree, and I know how much you like to follow the rules, but I don’t want to make this too inflexible. There should be some wiggle room, a consensus that it’s okay to break the Saturday afternoon rule if it doesn’t impact our work schedules and both parties are in agreement.”

A knot in Jemma’s stomach loosened. “That sounds very reasonable.” She held out her hand, and he shook it, then laced their fingers together and settled their joined hands on his sternum.

“I like to think I’m reasonable.” He yawned, and she did the same, resting her head against his chest and drifting off to sleep lulled by the sound of the waves and the beat of Fitz’s heart.

****

The cabin was filled with early morning light when Jemma woke. The sea air was fresh and brisk from the open window, but she was cozy and warm under the bed’s hideous blue quilt.

There was also a hand massaging her breast and a cock poking her thigh. She turned her head towards Fitz, who was tucked up against her. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” He nuzzled her cheek. “Since it’s not a work day, I figured we could break the rules.”

“Always an overachiever.” She kissed his nose. “And I agree. This is an excellent time.”

Fitz grinned, and his hand moved down to her pussy, petting her and rubbing her clit while he pressed his forehead to hers.

The surf was louder than the night before. It was a pleasant sound to be made love to by. Jemma closed her eyes as Fitz rolled over onto her. She spread her legs wide, pressing her toes into the mattress. Fitz thrust inside her, his movement unhurried. They surged against each other, bodies colliding and pulling back only to come together again.

Fitz buried his face against her neck as he lost his rhythm and came with a soft cry. She cradled him with her arms and legs as he shuddered through his climax. Gasping in a breath, he moved off her, lying on his side and putting his fingers on her pussy again. He circled her clit just like she liked. Her hips rocked and she peaked, giving a tiny grunt . He pressed two fingers inside her, drawing out the orgasm as her channel clenched around them.

“Sorry,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder as she caught her breath.

“What for?”

“I didn’t mean to get off that fast, you just…everything…it was nice.”

“It was nice. And you’d shouldn’t feel bad. We don’t magically need to have orgasms at the same time. You were aware and took care of me, and I’m very satisfied.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at her.

“Oh! And I have another surprise.”

“It’s not cauliflower, is it?”

She laughed and wiggled over to pull the Scrabble bag out of the same pocket of her luggage the cock ring had been in. She lay on her back and set the bag on her chest between her breasts.

Fitz beamed at her. “I like this surprise.” He opened the bag and swirled the tiles around. “I’m hoping for the blank one so I can do whatever I want.” A couple more swirls, and he plucked a tile from it. It made him laugh as he set it down on her breast, right by a nipple. She craned her neck to see. It was the letter: **T**.


	12. T

Fitz glared at the slimy thing on his workbench. The sensor project was still being evaluated further up the food chain, so this week they had room to do other work. 

“It’s mud…and stuff,” Jemma said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He was sitting on a stool, and she was standing beside him.

“It smells disgusting. Why did the agent dump their recorder in a swamp again?”

“I believe it was the only available alternative at the time.”

“Terrific, but now I have to retrieve the data. It’s probably carrying rabies or botulism.”

“E. coli?”

“That’s not—” Fitz hung his head.

“Well, I’ll start with collecting samples to make sure nothing is out of the ordinary before we crack the case.”

Jemma leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his arm as she studied the mud-coated box. It must be getting warmer out because Jemma was wearing a blouse with a scoop neck that showed off a terrible lot of cleavage. Not that he particularly minded being gifted repeatedly with eyefuls of her tits. But an eyeful meant he’d end up wanting a handful, or a mouthful, and it was only Tuesday morning.

“Fitz-Simmons!” Richard called, barging into the lab.

“What now?” Fitz muttered as he spun toward his boss, and Jemma elbowed him as she turned as well. A tall, dark-haired man stood behind Richard, wearing a nervous smile.

“I’d like you to meet our newest agent,” Richard said. “This is Dr. Trevor Bischoff, and Trevor, this is Dr. Fitz and Dr. Simmons.”

Fitz pointed at Jemma. “Simmons.”

“Fitz.” She pointed back at him.

“Hi,” the new guy said. “You can call me Trevor, or Trev.”

“Simmons,” Richard said. “Trevor is going to be working in biology, so would you show him around?” Jemma nodded. “Thanks.” He left.

Trevor smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Simmons. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Isn’t that lovely? All good things I hope.” She walked over to shake hands with Trevor, but Fitz stayed put, his arms crossed.

Trevor had her hand in his for far too long, and his eyes darted right down Jemma’s front, but Jemma didn’t seem to notice. “Very good things.” Trevor glanced around the lab. “Is this the bio lab? It’s well equipped.”

“Oh, no.” Jemma waved a hand. “This one belongs to Fitz and me. I’ll show you where you’ll be working.”

Trevor frowned and glanced at Fitz. “Are you two…together?”

Jemma hesitated, and Fitz’s heart and stomach did odd things. “We work together,” she said. “And he’s my good friend. We have a complimentary set of skills.”

Trevor’s look became calculating as he studied Jemma again, his eyes dragging over her breasts.

Fitz shot to his feet. “And we’re roommates,” he said gruffly. Damn it, this tall and well put together berk needed to fuck off. Fitz had had enough of Trevor ogling Jemma. And Jemma smiling warmly at Trevor.

Fitz knew he didn’t have any actual claim to her, but the thought of Trevor doing half the things to Jemma that Fitz had done with her in the cabin on Cape Cod made him nearly blow a gasket. Fitz dragged a hand over his face.

Trevor was looking between the Fitz and Jemma, his brow furrowed.

“Don’t take too long,” Fitz said, turning back to the recorder. “I can’t start with this thing until you get your samples.”

“Of course,” Jemma said brightly. “I’ll show him the bio lab and break room, then use the recorder as a way to show him how we collect samples.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble—” Trevor started.

“You won’t be. Now it’s just down this hallway to the chem and bio labs.” She trotted off with Trevor behind her, and Fitz was left to brood.

He sat down in a chair away from the disgusting gunk on the recorder and dropped his head into his hands. Jemma wouldn’t abandon their home project before they were even halfway done, would she? Especially not for some wanker who was six-two—Fitz’s brain inconveniently converted that to 187.96 cm—and looked like he’d probably played lacrosse in uni. What a cunt.

Dammit. Fitz massaged his temples. This was jealousy. This was what being jealous felt like.

Bloody hell, if he could go and toss Jemma over his shoulder and haul her off to his office and spend the afternoon humping her until she couldn’t walk, he would.

He didn’t have any right even to be thinking something like that. Jemma was not his girlfriend, and she’d hate Fitz being possessive. Probably say something about him needing to trust her. And she wasn’t his.

What had gotten into him today?

He was being silly. Simmons was an excellent friend and would continue to be. She wouldn’t start dating until after…after Fitz couldn’t touch her anymore.

Shite.

Jemma returned with Trevor, and they were both laughing.

Fitz tried to smile, but it quickly became glaring again. Jemma was all efficiency and smooth instructions, and Trevor was all eyes down the front of her shirt. When he was set up to collect a few samples on his own, Jemma came over to where Fitz was sitting.

“Open your mouth,” she said to him.

“What? No.”

She raised an eyebrow, and he sighed and opened his mouth. She stuffed a jumbo marshmallow between his teeth. “There, that should make you feel better. There were some in the break room.”

“Thank you,” he said as he chewed.

Jemma beamed at him, then returned to monitor Trevor, correcting him over something he’d done wrong. As soon as the samples were collected, Jemma shooed Trevor off to analyze them.

Fitz stood beside her, and she handed him a screwdriver.

“Now,” she said. “Shall we get to the real work?”

Fitz grinned, feeling as fluffy as the marshmallow.

****

Fitz was sitting in his office on Friday. The entire week had been a rollercoaster for him, with his mood related to how close Dr. Trevor Bischoff was to Jemma, who seemed to the blatantly flirting with the guy. Her hair had been up in high ponytails every day and her clothes progressively more revealing.

Today she had a white shirt on you could see her bra through in the right light.

Trevor had nearly been drooling, and so had Fitz, but only when nobody was looking. And Fitz knew without a doubt he couldn’t complain, even if Jemma was his girlfriend, because he hadn’t been raised to be a pig and Jemma could do what she wanted and dress how she wished.

Fitz was just faced with the fact that the latter part would be easier for him if everyone knew she was taken. Which she wasn’t.

Jemma came into the office and sat across from him with a sigh.

“I thought you might be having lunch with Dr. Bisquick,” Fitz grumbled.

“Who?”

“The new guy.”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “He’s nice looking, but how he got a doctorate, I’ll never know.”

“Biscuits isn’t that bright?”

“I don’t know. I might just be comparing having to do anything with him to doing something with you. In which case, there is no comparison.” Fitz’s PB&J suddenly tasted much better. Jemma picked at her salad. “I’m just tired, and you’ve been a bit cranky this week.”

“Sorry, I’m…” He scratched his cheek. “I don’t even know what I am. You’ve been in distracting shirts all week.”

Jemma brightened up. “You noticed?”

“How could I not?”

“But you didn’t say anything. I thought you might appreciate me in slightly more revealing attire, but when you never mentioned it, I kept trying harder, with this outfit being my last ditch effort.”

The shirts were for him? “Um…I can see your bra. His eyes flicked down her chest. Yup, it was still mostly visible.

Jemma turned a little pink. “I just wanted you to notice. You’ve been busy in the evenings and distant at work and, well, I don’t know, I felt sort of forgotten.”

Fitz dropped his sandwich and held out both hands towards her. “I could never forget you.” Jemma set down her salad and slid her fingers over his. He couldn’t tell her he’d been holed up in his room gutting and reconfiguring her vibrator. It really didn’t get a lot of use, the parts had looked almost brand new, and she hadn’t missed it so far. It was a surprise for Saturday.

They held hands silently for a few moments before Jemma grinned. “What about tomorrow? I haven’t got an email yet.” They went back to eating, and Fitz jiggled his knee. Hopefully, Jemma wouldn’t disown him for the message he was about to send her. “Do you need help deciding?” she asked.

“I knew as soon as I drew the T,” he mumbled.

Jemma leaned forward. “Send it.”

He stuck the last bight of sandwich in his mouth and grabbed his mobile, pulling up the draft of an email and firing it off to her. ‘T=titty fucking.’

Jemma picked up her phone to read it, and his knee jiggled faster. Her lips pursed. Not a good sign. Looking down, she grabbed her boobs and squished them together. “Fitz, I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not sure if—”

“I can see from right here exactly where I want to be.”

She looked up at him, her hands still cupping her tits. “I’m going to need to do some research.”

“Sure.”

She looked back down and squeezed them together harder.

“You’ll do fine.” His voice was hoarse. “Some of that warming lube and we’ll be good to go.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Fitz reached over the desk and peeled her hands off her boobs before he got any harder than he already was. “You never could.”

****

It’d taken Friday night and most of Saturday morning for Fitz to get the vibrator working how he wanted it to. There were five settings now, the head was angled—that’d been a son of a bitch— and it was self-warming.

He had it wrapped in a towel on his bed, ready to go when Jemma was.

Not wanting to wait, he peeked into her room at two, only to find the bed stripped, the lube set out, a candle going, and Jemma sitting at her desk with a porn clip playing while she watched with a grimace. There was a pad of paper and a pen in her hand. The clip was of some chit with a hideously fake pair of tits who was pushing them together while moaning like she was fixing to come from the prick squished between them.

Fitz circled back to his room and grabbed the vibrator in its towel before knocking on Jemma’s door and walking in. She looked up, startled.

“That’s a bunch of horse shite,” he said, pointing at the screen.

Jemma deflated in her chair as she stopped the clip and minimized her browser. Fitz was startled to see that the wallpaper on her desktop was a picture of them during their not-a-date to the woods. Shaking his head, he went and retrieved the lube, then returned to kneel in front of her. He set the towel and vibrator aside.

Fitz wasn’t used to Jemma looking this unconfident.

“I haven’t come up with a plan,” she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair. “I simply don’t think I’ll be good at this.”

He turned his head to kiss her inner arm. “You’re already amazing.”

“Thank you, and I’ll try my best. Should I get on the bed?”

“Nah, take your robe off and stay right there, I’m just going to get out of these trousers.” She undid her sash and pulled her sleeves off as he quickly removed his shirt and pushed his jeans down and off, leaving his boxers on for now.

He pushed her legs slightly apart so he could get between her knees, then leaned forward to kiss one breast, his hand massaging the other. Jemma moaned softly, and her nails scratched lightly at his scalp.

When he switched sides, he blew on her wet nipple as he left it and was rewarded with a louder moan.

The soft feel of her tits really did something for him, and he laved and sucked her nipples, but also rubbed his face against the entire thing, and lifted them to kiss the curved undersides and the crease where they met her chest.

Perfect titties he was lucky enough to be allowed to play with.

His cock wanted to get in on the action and was tenting out the front of his boxers. He gave it a hard stroke through the fabric when he detoured a hand down to grab the lube.

Fitz let go long enough to dump it on his palm and wait for the warming to start, then returned to massaging Jemma’s tits.

She was smiling somewhat quizzically at him though she wiggled and made noises when he focused on her nipples.

“Thanks, Jems,” he said, wanting to encourage her. “I know this is more for me than you, but I love your breasts. They feel so good and making me so hard. I’m hard as nails just from stroking your lovely tits. I want to fuck ‘em so you know how much I like them. I’m going to come hard all over them.”

He had to pause and bite his lip before he told her how he would rub that come in so the next time Dr. Bitch-breath had a peek, Fitz could grin and imagine how Jemma looked painted white.

“I think I’d like that,” Jemma said, running a finger down his arm. “How do we do this?”

He hooked the sides of his boxers and shoved them down as he stood up. His cock was heavy and aching, and he fisted it again as he considered. Jemma’s eyes were on his prick, and she shifted her hips again.

“Are you wet?” he asked, curious.

She nodded. “And if I wasn’t I’d soon be with you…right there, like that.”

“My cock likes you too.” Jemma laughed. “And don’t worry, I won’t just disappear when I’m done. I’ve got something planned for you.” She looked intrigued but then puzzled as he pushed her chair back against her desk to brace it. “Put your knees together.”

She did, and he straddled her legs, then inched forward. It was awkward. Very. Jemma leaned back a little, and he was able to grab his cock and circle the head around her nipple. Her eyes followed the motion, and he groaned, jerking his hips forward.

“You feel good. So soft and smooth.” He kept rubbing his prick on her tits, the image and feeling spurring him on. Experimentally, he thrust several times against her chest, which was odder than he’d been expecting.

He paused, but Jemma’s hand rose and cupped his balls. He moaned, and his hips jerked. Her fingers were cold, but it felt wonderful. Her hand moved to his prick and stroked a few times before tugging him forward a half-step more. She let go of him and grinned as she pressed her breasts together.

“Fuck, just like that, I’m already most of the way there.” He fit his cock against the lower side of the slit made by her tits and pushed up towards her face. The lube was enough that he could slide easily, but not so much that there wasn’t any friction. Perfect.

He lightly rested his hands on her upper arms as he found a rhythm, moaning from the feel.

With each thrust, he could see the head of his cock appear between the top of her cleavage, and it was exactly what he’d been imagining. It felt better than he’d thought, pressing against her chest with her fabulous tits rubbing his prick was amazing.

Grunting, he moved faster. “It feels great, Jems, thank you, fuck, I’m going to come soon.”

Jemma looked a little dazed, and her eyes were wandering up and down his body. Her fingers flexed, and he put his hands over hers to keep her from letting go before he was ready for her to.

He was barreling towards a hell of an orgasm, his hips jerking hard as he thrust. Any embarrassment at the odd position was long gone. His belly tightened, and his sac drew up.

“Jemma,” he whispered, and came, bliss blazing out from his groin like wildfire. He grunted as his come streaked her chest and throat. He pulled back as soon as the pulses stopped, moving his hands to rub at the come, spreading it over her perfect, beautiful, lovely, wonderful tits.

His legs gave out and, panting, he ended up on his knees before her again.

Jemma leaned forward. “That went better than I thought it would.”

“Oh, good, and, wait—” He put a hand out to keep her from getting up. “I have a present for you.” He grabbed the vibrator out of the towel and held it up. “I fixed it. Now lean back and spread your legs.”

She did as he asked, and he positioned himself between her knees, giving her clit a quick swipe with his tongue before holding the vibrator against it and turning it on.

“It’s different,” she said, then moaned, and her hips hitched.

Fitz could hardly contain himself. “It has five levels of intensity, and the oscillations are different, with a slight programmed variation.”

Jemma grinned, then moaned again. “It’s so much better, thank you.” She held out her hand. “I can take it if you want to go get cleaned up.”

“What universe are you in where I’m going to leave before I see you come?”

Jemma laughed and settled back. “Alright, alright, have it your way.”

He focused back on her pussy, concentrating on holding the vibrator just right. The volume and frequency of Jemma’s noises let him know he was on the right track.

“More?” He asked after a moment.

“Yes!” He turned up the vibration, then again a minute later. Jemma was groaning and panting, her hips jerking.

She came with a wail and a rush of fluid, her head falling back. Fitz watched her pussy pulse, fascinated, though he thought it was much more interesting when it was fluttering around him. He had the vibrator hovering right above her clit as she rode out her pleasure.

When the contractions faded, he flipped the vibrator up another notch and pressed it against her again.

Jemma jerked. “Fitz!”

His cheeks hurt he was smiling so wide.

“Oh my god, oh my…Fitz!” She came again, with a cry, her entire body twitching. He turned the toy off and set it aside. Jemma was panting and had sunk down into her chair. He leaned against her thigh and closed his eyes, one arm around her waist. A sigh left him as Jemma stroked her fingers through his hair.

“Thank you for letting me do that,” he said.

“Which part?” she asked, amusement in her voice.

“Both, I guess, but I meant the first.”

“I actually found it a turn on, once we got going. If you want that would be a definite repeat. And the vibrator is loads better than factory.”

He kissed her thigh. “I really liked how it felt, and the visuals were great.” Jemma gently scratched his scalp, and he wished he could purr. “And I was working on that bloody vibrator all week to get it just right. I’m sorry you felt ignored, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Oh, Fitz, I should have known you were up to something like that.”

“I like to think I did much better than Dr. Bichon would have.”

“Who?”

“The new guy.”

“What new guy?”

“Trevor?”

“Why are you worried about him right now?”

Fitz glanced up to find Jemma making a face at him. “Well…he’s…tall.”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you seriously being jealous, Fitz? While you’re sitting between my knees and we’re naked.”

“The wanker kept looking down your shirt!”

“Oh…I’ll wear a higher collar on Monday.” Fitz whimpered. “It’s okay,” she said, patting him. “I’ll change to something more revealing when we get home.”

“I like your boobs.”

Jemma laughed. “Yes, I did notice.”

****

Fitz woke Sunday morning in Jemma’s bed. She was tucked tight against his side though he could tell she wasn’t asleep.

He shifted, and she clutched at his shirt. “I don’t want to get up. Because then I have to think and do things and it’s much nicer here with you.”

“I wholeheartedly second that statement. But I have to pee.”

“Stupid bodies.”

“Not yours.”

Her eye popped open. “Thank you, but I’m declaring yours still is stupid because no matter how much I like it, it has betrayed me with urination.”

“How about I make breakfast?”

“Oatmeal?”

“Yes, with blueberries.”

He kissed her forehead and rolled out of bed, went to the loo, washed his hands, and flipped the radio on in the kitchen to listen to the news.

Jemma shuffled in as he started the kettle going.  She was still in her PJs with her hair in a messy bun. “Ready for me to pick?”

“Go for it.”

He checked that the oats weren’t burning and pulled down their mugs while Jemma retrieved the Scrabble bag.

“Oh, hell,” she grumbled.

“Is it giving you trouble?”

“I tied it securely on the way back last Sunday, and now it’s too secure.”

He held out a hand, and she dumped it into his hand and sat at the table. The string was in quite the knot, but he loosened it with a little tugging. Fitz set it down and Jemma grabbed a tile, bringing it over to where he was stirring the oats. She showed him: **R**.


	13. R

_Wednesday_

It was ruined. Her entire blasted experiment. Something in the agar medium had been wrong, and it’d contaminated several weeks’ worth of work and all the data would have to be thrown out.

She slumped onto a stool and put her head in her hands. Where was Fitz when she needed him? Besides not here.

Pulling herself together, she grabbed a biohazard bin and tossed the petri dishes into it. Then tied the bag up, in the proper way with the top looped through itself, and carried it down to the dirty utility room to be disposed of.

She was going to have to start over. Redo everything. Make her own agar this time.

Jemma stopped in the break room for a bottle of water, and was surprised to find Molly, Milton, and Trevor huddled around a table. There were chatting and laughing, which came to an abrupt halt when she walked in.

Honestly, it was like primary school all over again. She grabbed her water and walked back out as Molly whispered something to Trevor that made his eyes widen. Jemma ignored them and their whispering. It was probably fueled by jealousy. The sensor project had finally been reviewed, and the upper echelons of SHIELD had been impressed. Enough so that there was a visit scheduled in a month. There was even a rumor that the Director might show, though Jemma doubted that. What would Fury want with a set of cobbled together sensors?

Richard wanted them to put together a few that were more completed-looking, but the supply shipment was late, which was where she thought Fitz was, complaining and trying to track it.

As Jemma approached the lab, she heard voices. One was Fitz…and the other was Sherri.

Her stomach twisted. Had Fitz been with Sherri? In his office with the door closed like when…

Jemma put her hand on the wall and told herself to breathe and not to jump to such ridiculous conclusions? Hadn’t she had to chide Fitz last weekend for thinking she was dressing up to impress Trevor?

Fitz’s voice got louder. “This day is shite and you’re not helping. I’m bloody tired, I do not want to go with you and anyone else to see a movie.”

“But I know you’ve been wanting to see this one, and you told me Jemma wasn’t keen on the franchise, so why not?”

Fitz sighed. “I really don’t think I have to explain that to you.”

“Oh, c’mon sweetie, it’ll be fun. If you’re not seeing anyone than what does it matter?”

That was enough. Jemma marched into the lab and set her water bottle down with a thunk on a work bench.

“Hi, Sherri,” she said, putting the effort in to sound cheery.

Sherri rolled her eyes. “Hi. Tell Fitz he can go out without you since he seems to need his roommate’s approval to do anything.”

Fitz put a hand over his face while Jemma imagined Sherri falling down a well and being eaten by a giant, mutant alligator.

“I believe Fitz said he didn’t want to go. My opinion doesn’t matter because I respect his decisions.” Sherri’s brows drew together as she seemed to try to work that one out. “I thought you had plans for Saturday?” Jemma asked Fitz.

He put his hand on his hips and narrowed his gaze at her. “I’m going to get the drone working for real this time. I was too busy with another project last week.”

Jemma fought a blush. The vibrator had been amazing. She squeezed her thighs together and wanted to laugh at how Fitz had suddenly switched to staring at the floor.

“Well, the offer’s still open if you change your mind,” Sherri said, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she walked out. Jemma scowled at her back, then faced Fitz, who was now leaning against the counter with his arms crossed and frowning. He was wearing the blue cardigan that was one of Jemma’s favorites on him, it really brought out his eyes.

“She’s something else,” Jemma said.

“Where were you?” Fitz asked. “I’m expecting you to be here and instead I’ve got that harpy calling me sweetie and asking me if I want to go out. She doesn’t take no for an answer.”

Jemma’s mouth fell open. “I am not responsible for her bothering you. And if you must know, I was taking a rubbish bag full of my samples for the long-term bio-feasibility study I’ve been doing for four months down to the bin. There was contamination and I’m going to have to start all over.” She angrily brushed at her eyes.

“Oh, Jemma.” Fitz’s face fell, and he held out his arms. She rushed into them, pressing herself against his shoulder. “You worked so hard on that. I’m so sorry.”

“I shouldn’t be crying. Things happen.”

“Don’t be sorry for being sad.”

“Thank you.”

He held her close until she got ahold of herself and straightened up.

“Should we go out to dinner tonight?” Jemma asked.

“Pizza and skeeball?”

His expression was soft as he smiled at her. “I’m not going to let you win.”

“You better not.”

****

_Friday_

The week had only gone downhill. The supplies they needed had ended up in Guam and were still making their way back. She’d spent all of yesterday morning making the agar she needed, then all of yesterday afternoon remaking it when something went wrong with the first batch.

Today, Richard had stomped around and yelled at nearly everyone, including her, which at resulted in several samples having to be redone because she was certain his spit had ended up in them. This visit from the brass was not good for his blood pressure.

Last night Jemma had been visited by a nightmare where instead of walking into the lab to find Fitz sending Sherri on her way, she’d walked into them getting it on—which would also contaminate things—and dream-Fitz had told Jemma he’d never cared about her at all. Waking up in a panic, she’d gotten up to get a glass of water and try to shake the images, which had woken Fitz. She felt terrible for disturbing him, right until he’d sleepily shuffled back to her room with her after she’d told him it was a bad dream and held her close for the rest of the night. Which had thankfully been peaceful.

Altogether, Jemma was tired, cranky, and completely out of sorts. Nothing seemed to be working how she wanted it to, and she didn’t know where Fitz was, again, so she was eating her lunch holed up in her office while setting up new spreadsheets for her data.

Halfway through her break she texted Fitz. **Where are you?**

**Post Office.**

She glared at the screen. **Why?**

**Second shipment went wrong, to Alaska for some bloody reason. I’m trying to get them pay me the insurance since it was delivered to who the hell knows where.**

**Why didn’t you tell me?**

**You were busy.**

Jemma put her hands on her desk and drummed her fingers. It was a perfectly reasonable answer. Unlike Richard, Fitz wouldn’t interrupt her while she was swabbing plates. But she was still unhappy that he hadn’t said anything and now they weren’t having lunch together. She should have tied him to his desk.

Jemma’s fingers stopped. She’d decided early in the week R would be reverse cowgirl, but she hadn’t sent the email yet. They had unused handcuffs and limb restraints. Her pulse quickened. She could tie him to her bed and not let him up until she was good and done with him.

She sent an email, ‘R=restraints. Me restraining you’.

‘I’m at the post office!’

‘You told me’.

‘This is not where I need to get an erection’.

Jemma put her hand over her mouth and giggled.

Another message popped up. ‘I’m sure all the employees here appreciate the fact I just gave up and left.’

Jemma wasn’t remotely sorry. ‘SHIELD SUVs have dark tinted windows’.

There was no reply. She went back to her lunch, much happier than before.

A text came in as she was getting ready to head back to the lab. It was a video, and she had a very good idea what she’d be seeing. Making sure her office door was locked, she sat back down and pressed play, biting her lip.

“For fuck’s sake, Jems, you can’t just go saying something like that.” Fitz was in the SUV, the camera angled down towards his groin where he was rubbing himself through his trousers. Undoing her jeans, she shoved her hand down the front, pressing against her clit through her panties. She almost moved them to the side, but thought of a better use as Fitz undid his trousers in the video, so she continued to press the crotch tight against herself as she rubbed.

Fitz was wanking furiously in the video, his breathing harsh.

“This is your fault, you know,” he groused, then groaned. “Doesn’t take much more than the thought of being with you to get me hard as nails.”

Jemma was certain she wasn’t going to last long, though it looked like Fitz wasn’t either. She would have such a good time teasing him tomorrow. Her toes curled, and she humped her fingers, speeding towards a climax.

Fitz was moaning, he slumped down as his hand moved faster. “Jemma, Jemma…oh fuck.” He came with a garbled noise, aiming his cock towards his belly where there was a napkin. Fitz was tucking himself away. “Sorry I missed lunch. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

Jemma dropped the mobile on her desk and rubbed herself frantically. She came silently, her body arching off the chair.

That’d been nice.

Standing, she took her jeans off, then her knickers, grabbing a new pair from a bottom drawer. They weren’t as fancy as the lace ones she’d been wearing, but she always had extras in case a pad leaked or another woman in the office had a similar emergency.

After redressing, she held her knickers with their wet crotch tight in her hand and slipped over to Fitz’s office. His cardigan was hanging from the back of his chair. Perfect. She slid the knickers into the pocket and hurried back to the lab.

Fitz strolled in less than ten minutes later, looking a little shy and with his cardigan on.

“Hey,” she said. “I’m setting up simulation programs, do you want to help me define parameters?”

“Sure, sure…did you get my message?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, and it was very entertaining to watch his brow crease, his fingers work oot what was in his pocket, and then his jaw drop open.

“Yes, I did.” She smiled serenely.

He looked like a deer in the headlights. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Entirely. Now I need to figure out the coefficients—”

“Simmons…” His eyes trailed done to where her rear was on the stool.

“I had a backup pair.”

Fitz looked very relieved that she wasn’t going commando though his fingers were still caressing the knickers in his pocket. “Now what is this about coefficients?”

****

  _Saturday_

Jemma laughed as the little drone buzzed by her. Fitz had spent most of the day on getting it to work, and it was finally flying. While it looked like a children’s toy, it was far more maneuverable with a greater lift capacity.

Earlier in the afternoon, she’d gotten her room ready, but then Fitz had started in on a series of questions and they’d worked together for a few hours in order to get the drone functional.

“Could we got to Best Buy tomorrow?” Fitz asked as he dropped the drone to skim along the carpet, under the couch, and back out the side.

“What are you looking for?”

“Roomba.”

“Trying to get out of vacuuming duties?”

“No, I want to reverse engineer it and see how some of its automation problems were solved.”

She shook her head.  Only Fitz. “Fine, I could use a new case for my mobile.” She held her hand out and Fitz landed the drone on her palm. Putting it on the coffee table, she gathered the Chinese take-out containers from dinner and carried them to the bin. When she returned from the kitchen, Fitz was on his knees beside the coffee table, bent over and adjusting something on the drone with a small screwdriver. It was a nice picture.

Jemma went to stand beside him and threaded a hand into his hair. “Hey,” she said. The screwdriver clattered on to the table. “Ready?”

Fitz’s eyes were closed as he licked his lips and nodded. Once he was standing, she took his hand and led him to her room. The bed was stripped down like usual, but she’d had to get creative with the limb restraints since she didn’t have posts to tie them to. Instead she’d run nylon cord under the bed, attaching the leg restraints on each side and having a loop at the top of the bed that the handcuffs were threaded through.

“Naked,” she said to Fitz. “And on your back in the middle of the bed.”

Fitz was staring goggle-eyed. “Jems,” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“You told me I had to ask, so I’m asking. I think I’m going to need the cock ring.”

Jemma grinned and bit her lip. “I’ll get it out while you do as I asked.”

“Of course.”

He shucked his clothes haphazardly and stretched out on the center of the bed, putting his hands over his head. His cock was arching up onto his belly and a drop of precum leaked as she watched. Fitz liked this, a lot. It was more surprising to her how much she was turned on by the sight of him waiting for her to tie him up.

Jemma took the lube and cock ring from her night stand and sat on the bed. Using a little lube, she pushed it down his cock until it was snug against the base. Fitz moaned and rubbed his feet together. The lube went back to the night stand before she returned to the foot of the bed. Grasping one of Fitz’s ankles, she drew it to the side and wrapped the padded restraint around it and did up the Velcro. His eyes were on her the entire time. She repeated the process with the other leg, then kneeled on the head of the bed and trailed her fingers over his arms, positioning them just right before closing the lined cuffs around his wrists.

“Is that alright?” she asked. Fitz nodded vigorously, and she could see his pulse beating rapidly in his neck.

Standing, Jemma stripped down until she was only in her bra. It was black and did an admirable job of lifting her boobs and giving her some cleavage. She knelt on the end of the bed between Fitz’s feet and used her nails to lightly scratch up his lower legs, inside his knees, and up his inner thighs. His hips lifted off the mattress, but she avoided his straining cock as she straddled his hips and pressed her palms to his chest.

Bending over, she teased his nipples with her tongue, licking and blowing on them, making him wiggle. With Fitz’s arms over his head, Jemma realized she could just keep scooting up his body. She nuzzled his neck. “Would you like to lick me?” she whispered in his ear.

“Please, please. God yes. I want that hot and wet pussy on my tongue.”

“I really do like your dirty mouth.” She traced her fingers over his lips, then worked herself up his torso, hovering her folds over his face. It made her feel very self-conscious, but Fitz only groaned and lifted his head, swiping his tongue over her pussy and sending a jolt straight to her core.  He licked and sucked at her clit, and her hips rolled.

“Yeah, like that, fuck my face, Jemma.”

She paused. “Can you breathe?”

“It’s fine.”

Jemma grabbed her breasts, playing with her nipples through the fabric of her bra while Fitz noisy licked her and made little happy noises.

It felt amazing, but she was still too worried about hurting him to let go and come.

“Thank you,” she said as she moved back. Fitz looked dazed and his lips and chin were wet with her arousal. He licked off his lips and wiggled in obvious enjoyment.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Impatient, aren’t you?”

She lifted herself up on her knees over his groin and caught his eye as she pressed her fingers between her legs, groaning as she rubbed. Fitz whimpered and lifted himself towards her.

“Maybe,” she said, breaking off to moan. “Maybe I’m just going to get myself off. Right here. You do look lovely all tied up.  Are you my Fitz right now?”

“Always, but…please?”

She continued rubbing herself as his hips bucked again. He pulled at the cuffs, and tried to draw his legs up, huffing when he couldn’t.

Jemma ground against her fingers. “Are you going to fight? Or are you going to do what I say?”

Fitz immediately sagged against the bed.

“That’s better. I think I’m going to do what I had originally planned for R.”

“It wasn’t this?” He sounded aghast.

“No, this is because I kept losing you last week and I wanted to keep you in one spot.”

“Oh, uh. That’s kind of sweet.”

She ran her hands over his chest. “Don’t forget who you belong to today.”

“Jemma,” he replied immediately with a shy smile. “What was your original idea?”

She moved to the side, and Fitz made a sad noise, but it turned into a gasp as she straddled him again, facing his feet. “Reverse cowgirl,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.

Fitz tried to lower his arms, only to glare up at the restrains when he couldn’t. It made her smile. Fisting his cock, she ran the head over her pussy several times before positioning the head at her opening and sinking down on to it. Fitz’s toes curled, and he groaned.

“Ride me, please. Oh, fuck. I’m so fucking hard.” He thrust up into her and Jemma mewled. He certainly wasn’t lying.

She leaned forward a little, bracing her palms on his thighs, and raised and lowered herself. It took a few attempts before she found the right rhythm, but then she was able to move hard and fast, the stretch and angle of Fitz’s cock inside her was different, but in a good way.

Fitz was moaning and his thighs muscles were stiff under her hands.

“I want to touch you,” he gasped. “Hold your hips while your fucking me. Jemma, please!”

She paused and glanced at him. His face was flushed, his hair a curly riot, and his brows drawn together.

“Please?” he asked again.

“No.”

His head fell back, and she moved faster, transferring her weight to one hand so she could circle her clit with the other. Her belly was tensing, and she bit her lip, working herself frantically on Fitz’s shaft. She came with a groan, slamming herself down and grinding as pleasure exploded through her. The cock ring dug into her as her pussy pulsed around him, and she couldn’t stop moving.

“Fitz,” she gasped. “I…I’m going to come again—”

He thrust upwards as she rubbed against him. A second climax washed over her. She threw her head back and cried out. It was almost painful it was so intense, the ecstasy not letting her do anything but feel it. She ended up trembling and panting.

Fitz was still moving, his thighs quivering.

“Wow,” she said.

“Need to come!” Fitz’s voice was strained. “Please, please, Jems, please.” She lifted herself off his cock. “No, no, no- what—”

“It’s okay,” she soothed. “It’s okay. Hang on.” She undid the restraints on his legs, then carefully turned around so she was still straddling him, but facing his head. She rolled the cock ring off as Fitz groaned, then impaled herself on his prick again. 

Fitz grunted and bent his knees, planted his feet on the bed, and thrust wildly up into her. She had to concentrate just to stay on place.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck, fuck…Jemma, Jemma!” He bucked up hard, nearly lifting her off the bed, and his entire body shuddered as his cock pulsed deep inside her. When he collapsed back against the mattress, he lay unmoving, his eyes closed.

“Fitz?” she said after a moment.

“Shhhh, I’m solving world peace.”

Jemma rolled her eyes and climbed off him. Retrieving the key from the nightstand, she released his hands, but he didn’t move. “Prove the Riemann hypothesis while you’re at it,” she said.

“On it.”

There was come dripping down her leg, so she hurried to the loo to wash off, and returned with a warm, damp flannel for Fitz. He looked mostly asleep, so she cleaned him, and he rolled onto his side and curled up as soon as she was done. Jemma hung the cloth over the rim of the bin in her room, and put the quilt back on the bed, along with two pillows. She clicked the lamp off.

Fitz was barely conscious enough to raise his head so she could slip the pillow under. She snuggled down facing him, scooting over so their lips were almost touching. His hand dragged up to her hip and settled there.

“Good night, Fitz.”

“Night.”

****

Jemma woke up absurdly early, probably because she’d gone to sleep so early. She wiggled around to see the alarm clock, which read just after five in the morning.

A warm arm snaked about her waist and pulled her back under the covers.

“Too early,” Fitz said.

“We went to bed too early.”

“Sorry, you wore me out.” He didn’t sound sleepy now, and she turned to find him grinning at her, his eyes bright. “That was amazing.”

“It was, wasn’t it? I rather enjoyed having you all splayed out for me to play with.”

“And I enjoyed being played with.”

She studied his face. “Did I do the right thing when I told you no? I didn’t second guess it at the time, but I am now.”

“You did, I was looking for a no, but I suppose we should have something set up, like a way us to tell each other if it really is a no or just a be careful.”

“I do believe you’re saying we need a safe word?”

He nodded, looking a little shy.

“Should we do the standard? Yellow for caution and red for stop?”

“Why am I not surprised you’d know that, and yes. Really, Jemma, you can tie me up anytime you want.”

She hid her face against his chest. “It was very nice, wasn’t it?”

“That’s one word for it.” His stomach growled. “Damn it.”

“Should we get up? We both seem awake.”

Fitz nodded, resigned. “Waffles and sausage?” he asked, voice hopeful.

“Waffles and sausage. Now go get dressed.”

Jemma started the tea first thing before pulling the waffle iron out. She also got the Scrabble bag and put it on the counter.

Fitz, dressed in his Sunday best of pajama pants and a shapeless t-shirt, came into the kitchen and put an arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. He got the sausage out of the fridge, and as he opened the package, Jemma shook the Scrabble bag at him. “Pick!”

“I’ve got my hands on raw meat.”

She dumped a pile of tiles into her palm and held them up. Fitz made a face. “Use your mouth.”

“So bossy.”

Jemma raised a brow and Fitz sighed, leaning over and huffing against her skin as he singled one tile out and got it between his lips. She put out her other palm and Fitz dropped the tile into her hand. It landed letter side up: **K**.


	14. K

Fitz stood next to Jemma in the breakroom as the electric kettle heated. He ignored the talking heads on TV and watched the corner of the counter, waiting for the water to boil. Jemma had no problem looking right at the kettle because nonsense maxims didn’t apply to her and the water would boil regardless of it being observed.

Trevor came in and said hello, which Jemma returned, but Fitz only managed a halfhearted wave in the bloke’s direction. Fitz's brain was mostly occupied with improving the miniaturized sensors, now that he had a least a few shipments of supplies available. Bloody post office. These he’d requisitioned directly through SHIELD and had them brought by SHIELD transport, which Richard would blow a gasket over if he ever found out.

Trevor asked Jemma something, and she shook her head. Fitz guessed it must have been something about the telly because Trev changed the channel before sitting down with a can of coke.

It was one of those terrible CSI programs that infuriated Jemma. The on-screen team was poking at a dead body in a bedroom, and, predictably, Jemma started listing every contamination and error.

“It’d be nice if they didn’t have to step foot in the room,” she groused.

Fitz’s brain went from idle to 200 kilometers per hour. “What if they didn’t,” he whispered in her ear. She looked up at him questioningly. “Drones could take pictures of the room.”

Jemma’s eyes lit up. “What if those drones could map the entire room, and test for chemicals, materials, and biologics?” She was talking in a low voice, her excitement palpable.

“Forensics instead of, or not only, recon information,” Fitz said.

“The sensors would need to be robust.”

They grinned at each other and impulsively, Fitz hugged her. He nearly kissed her, before remembering there were many reasons he wasn’t supposed to, but he was so happy. The drones he’d been developing would be perfect, and the sensors would have to be adapted. It'd be a lot of work, but there were so many possibilities.

They broke apart when Trevor cleared his throat. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Dr. Fitz and I just came up with the most remarkable idea. It’ll be groundbreaking, and we’re celebrating!”

“Oh, um, what idea?”

“Can’t share yet,” Fitz said.

Jemma made a face. “Certainly not, it’s just a concept. But I’m so excited, and I have so much to do.”

Fitz could see the wheels turning in her head. The kettle boiled and he grabbed it, putting the mug when it was ready into Jemma’s hands.

He was ecstatic. The sensor project finally felt like it was theirs and not busy work assigned by their boss.

Jemma grinned as they exited the breakroom. “The drones are going to need a name.”

****

_Thursday night_

Fitz had a bare foot propped on the coffee table as he worked on not dying during a capture the flag match online. He was providing cover for one of his teammates, a regular gaming buddy he was in chat with, and they were excitedly yelling at each other as they scored another point.

The guy he was playing with, chedder4420, lived somewhere in Canada and Fitz didn’t know his real name, but they played regularly together, and he knew cheds was older than him and had a wife and two kids. The tag was from before all of that, and he’d never bothered to change it. Cheds knew Fitz as MnkyPaawz, and they had two other friends who were regulars as well, but not online tonight.

Fitz liked having friends that didn’t know him outside of the fact he had an Xbox and a preference to use a shotgun.

As the match was close to ending, Jemma came over and kissed his forehead. “Don’t stay up too late.” She looked cute in blue polka-dot pajamas, and he smiled at her.

“I won’t.”

Yawning, she shuffled off to her room.

“That Jemma?” Cheds asked.

“She was just saying goodnight.”

Cheds laughed. “No getting laid for you?” Fitz sighed. “Sorry, buddy,” Cheds said. “But let’s go another round.”

“Yeah, yeah. And I probably get laid more than you do.”

“I bet she’s all over you with that accent. My wife was sitting with me one time and heard you, and she got so excited, ‘You didn’t tell me Monkey was Scottish’.

Fitz rolled his eyes. “Jemma’s English, I don’t think it’s quite the same for her.” 

“Whatever. I bet if you ask her she’d say it one of the reasons she’s your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Cheds laughed. “But you sleep with her?”

“It’s a no strings attached thing.”

“Dude, my man, you live with her.”

“Yes.”

“You work with her.”

“Yeah.”

“You share a car, and you do all your grocery shopping together, and you spend most of your free time together.”

“When I’m not losing a match with your ugly arse.”

“You do realize that’s the opposite of no strings attached.” Cheds couldn’t stop laughing. “No strings attached would be if you called her once every six weeks at two in the morning to bang and didn’t see or care what she does the rest of the time. You are as married as I am.”

Fitz blinked. “But—”

“You love her,” Cheds sing-songed. “You love her!”

“Oh, let's just play the bloody match.”

Their team lost dramatically, and Fitz knew it was partly because he was playing like shite. He signed off after the match and pulled his headset off, dropping it and the controller on the coffee table.

His brain was turning Cheds’ taunting over and over. What did being in love even feel like? He loved his mum, sure. And of course he loved Jemma in the same sense, as a good friend…but, could he have missed that he’d fallen in love with her?

The warm ache in his chest whenever she was close, was that love? How he missed her when she wasn’t there? How anything interesting he saw, or did, or thought about, it was Jemma he wanted to share it with?

He tried to picture a future where he was married and dropping kids off at school and sitting around with them at dinner talking about their day. He wasn’t close to being ready for that, but someday he would be. It was impossible to imagine any of it without Jemma. Working somewhere without her would be impossible.

Fitz hunched over, his head in his hands.

They were halfway through their experiment. Half their time together gone. His gut knotted up.

No, that was impossible. He didn’t want anyone else. Ever.

Oh, fucking hell, he was in love with Jemma. Probably had been since he was sixteen.

Shite, shite, shite. What was he supposed to do? How did he tell her he’d broken the rules of the experiment before they’d even started?

Jemma was everything. The sex had just slotted that part of their lives together, and that piece had fit remarkably well. It had never been meaningless fucking. Fitz had been making love to her the entire time without knowing it.

God he was an idiot.

No, Jemma would hate him saying that. Fitz had simply already loved her so much that it had been natural to entwine himself with her even further.

He heaved a huge sigh. He should go to bed, sleep on it and see how things looked in the morning. After turning off the lights, he made his way to his room, where he stopped in the doorway. He was never going to get to sleep cold and alone in his bed.

The door to Jemma’s room wasn’t latched, and he pushed it open to slip in. She was lying on her side of the bed, and he raised the covers and lay down under them. Fitz shifted over and spooned her from behind.

Jemma stirred as he put an arm around her. “Fitz?”

“Can I sleep here?”

“Of course.”

He held her close, his heart hammering. He loved her. She was amazing, and he loved her.

****

The next day he felt like the wrong end of a donkey.

Sleep had not come easy, at it’d seemed like he’d had about thirty minutes of it before the alarm had gone off. Jemma had been snuggly and affectionate, and he’d not wanted to get up, but when he’d suggested they call in, she’d made a face and sighed, then got up to shower because it would be lying if they called in.

Damn it.

Currently, they were working on an algorithm for the drones, which was hideously complex and therefore a lot of fun. Only he kept losing his train of thought because of Jemma’s mouth.

He didn’t know how it tasted.

He was in love with her and had kissed almost all of her except her mouth.

Fitz needed to kiss her. Softly, roughly, good morning and good night. When she came, and when he came. He needed to kiss her for the rest of his life.

If only he could grab her, push her up against the wall and snog the daylights out of her, but he knew Jemma. That would be far too much rule breaking for their agreement, and that’d be what she’d focus on instead of how Fitz was kissing her.

“I think we should go have lunch,” Jemma said.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring into space. It’s probably low blood sugar. Let’s eat, and we can get back to work.”

“Right. Low blood sugar.”

They ate in her office, Jemma fiddling with a spreadsheet and him attempting to look busy with the pretzels and hummus she’d packed him instead of a sandwich. They planned out their lunches on Sundays, and he couldn’t remember why he’d agreed to hummus, except he was in love with her and would probably agree to go to the Moon or Wal-Mart if she asked.

Jemma looked up. “I’ve got brunch tomorrow, hopefully sans any dramatics this time, but I don’t know what my plans for the afternoon are yet.”

He blinked at her.

“Fitz, eat your biscuits. I’m starting to worry. Are you feeling alright? That was a massive hint to email me what K is going to be.”

“Ah. Well.”

“Fitz?”

“I want to change our agreement.” There, he’d said it.

Jemma paled. “You…you do?”

“Yes.” Fitz was proud his voice wasn’t shaking.

“What…did you get back together with Sherri? Did you meet someone? How could I not know?”

Fitz dropped his hummus on the desk and grabbed her hand. It was trembling. “No, god no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Now she looked cross, and his blasted prick twitched. Bloody hell.

“I…I…”

“Out with it!”

“I want to kiss you. K would be kiss. Starting tomorrow, but then after too. That didn’t seem like an email, so I’m asking you.”

Jemma’s mouth fell open. “Kiss?”

He nodded.

A grin slowly spread across her face. “I’d like that.”

He was incredibly relieved. He’d almost been expected her to ask for an annotated report, and he’d had no idea what he’d put beside ‘because’ with a footnote that read ‘I love you’.

But she’d agreed.

God, he going to explode before tomorrow afternoon. Digging in his lunch bag, he pulled out a ziplock full of animal crackers, and he grabbed a handful to shove in his mouth.

Jemma was still smiling slightly as she sipped her water and focused on her laptop.

Tomorrow was not going to arrive soon enough.

****

_Saturday Afternoon_

The flat was as neat as a pin. Jemma had left for brunch and Fitz had started with the dishes, and then just kept cleaning. Part of it was nerves, and the other part was more nerves, because he knew that if Jemma thought that the place was messy, then she wouldn’t be so willing to get started on the snogging.

He’d also neatened himself up, showering, shaving, convincing his hair to behave, and dressing in a clean pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He thought he looked okay, for him. And he’d brushed his teeth. Twice.

Jemma breezed in around one, looking like a dream with her hair around her shoulders and wearing a white and pink sundress. “Hello!” she called. “I’m just running to the loo.”

Fitz perched on the edge of the couch, twisting his hands together.

He couldn’t botch this. It was his chance to show her without words how much she meant to him. There was no blurting it out. Jemma usually didn’t do well with someone bluntly dropping their feelings on her. She might laugh, or more likely, just find something she just had to do right then and take off. She was analytical, and things that couldn’t be categorized, like emotions, were not something she easily dealt with.

So, Fitz had a plan. With half the alphabet still to go, he could show her that she was loved and cherished, and give Jemma all the tools she needed to come to that conclusion and decide how she felt in return. Her panic at him wanting to change their experiment, and her easy agreement to the kissing gave him hope.

Today was the first test.

Jemma came and sat down beside him. “I should have worn a burlap sack.”

“Why? You look gorgeous.”

“That was the problem. Everyone kept asking me if I had a date later and I said no, I was just going to hang out with you.” She was looking at him, her cheeks a little pink.

Fitz got the impression that Jemma might have, in fact, dressed up for him. “What do they know?” he scoffed, and Jemma smiled.

“Should I get my room ready?” she asked, and Fitz’s stomach did a somersault. He was going to lose his nerve if he had to wait any longer.  

“Jemma,” he whispered and cupped the back of her head as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers.

It was like seeing the sun for the first time.

She put her palm on his cheek, and Fitz committed every nuance to memory. Her tiny huffs of breath, the angle of her head, the exact shape and fill of her top lip and lower lip, how it was a little fuller in the middle. The faint taste of mint. The way her lips glided against his, fast and slow and a million variations in between.

It was perfect.

Jemma made a soft sound, and Fitz broke the kiss so he could see her face. He only had the briefest impression of half-lidded eyes and swollen lips as her mouth followed his, and they were kissing again.

He was shaking apart and coming back together all at the same time.

Jemma’s tongue brushed against his lips, and he eagerly opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Her tongue was almost shy as it met his. It stroked and spiraled around his, then went exploring, tucking up behind his front teeth and poking at his cheek. Jemma was very much on a mapping expedition, and it was so entirely something she’d do that he loved her all the more for it, though he did corral her back to the middle after a minute so he could flick the tip of his tongue against the tip of hers.

Jemma moaned. Her lips closed around his tongue and she sucked.

His cock took notice and stirred against his leg. Everything about kissing Jemma took on a new dimension.

Tilting his head a little more, he lazily stroked his tongue in and out of her mouth as he cupped her breast.

Jemma retaliated by nipping at his lower lip and fisting the front of his shirt.

His thumb grazed across where her nipple was under her dress and bra, and Jemma’s mouth left his as she arched her hack and mewled.

He loved her so damn much.

Fitz kissed down her throat, bathing her in love with every press of his lips.

Her fingers tightened, and she pulled at him. “Right here, Fitz. Don’t stop kissing me. Make love to me right here.”

She tipped backward, pulling him down with her, and he braced himself with a hand on the arm of the couch as he dove to kiss her mouth again. He couldn’t get enough of the way she drank him in, sucking and biting at his lips only to soothe it with her tongue. She was driving him mad. Jemma always drove him mad.

Her legs were spread, and he was between them, and he ground his cock against her as she fisted the skirt of her dress and worked it up her legs. As soon as it was above her crotch, he pressed in, rubbing his zipper and hardon against her knickers. Jemma bucked up against him, and he moaned. Her hand found his zip, pulling it down until she could wiggle her fingers in to stroke his cock.

It was a tease, and after a few passes, he had to sit back on his knees to undo his jeans.

Jemma whimpered. She was spread out under him, one leg hooked over the back of the couch and the other foot on the floor. Her dress was hiked up, and she had thin cotton knickers on, decorated with little hearts. Her face was flushed, her lips shiny and plump from his kisses, and she looked very much like she’d been making out with her…lab partner.

Fitz made short work of his jeans and pants, pushing them down his legs. “Knickers,” he said, groaning as he rubbed her pussy through them, finding the crotch already soaked.

“Just, push them to the side,” Jemma said, reaching for him. “I can’t wait. I need you, Fitz.”

His heart beat so hard he thought it might burst. He dropped back onto all fours, putting one hand beside her again and grabbing the head of his cock with the other. Using his fingers, he teased aside the damp fabric of her knickers and found her opening. He directed his prick into it and slowly sank into her heat as he softly kissed her.

Jemma moved her foot off the floor and wrapped her leg around his waist while her hands slid up his back under his shirt.

He rocked slowly, mimicking the action of his cock with his tongue. Jemma was all around him, his entire world, just like always.

The couch’s springs were creaking, a rhythmic backdrop to their moans.

Her kisses were slowly getting messier, and her fingers tightening on his back. Fitz moved a little rougher, and Jemma undulated under him. She was getting close. Fitz shifted and hooked his arm under the knee of the leg she had on the back of the couch, bringing it forward.

Jemma’s head fell back. “Oh…yes…”

“Harder?”

Her hips rolled. “Maybe…maybe…twenty percent?”

He braced himself and returned his mouth to hers as he did as she asked.

Jemma’s fingers twitched against his back, her thighs shook, and her pussy pulsed around his cock. Her mouth went slack, and he gently kissed her, until her leg tightened around his waist and her hands scratched down his back to grab his bum. She kissed him wildly, and he tried to hold off his impending orgasm, not wanting ever to do anything but be inside her.

Her pussy tightened, and she growled against his mouth before jerking hard as she came again.

Fitz was lost. He pistoned into her, his peak hitting him like a freight train. He didn’t make a sound, just kissed her with all the joy, pleasure, and love that was exploding inside him.

Gradually they both grew still, except for their breathing, and finally untangled enough that Fitz could lie on his side, squished against the back of the couch, while spooning Jemma. She fished around on the floor and came up with the TV remote, flipping it on to some lame sci-fi movie they’d both seen half-a-dozen times. He put his arm around her and held her, dozing on and off and not playing much attention to anything until his stomach announced it was dinner time.

Jemma sat up and stretched, but she put a hand on his chest when he went to do the same.

“I’m just going to change, and I’ll get you something, alright?”

“I’ll make breakfast tomorrow?”

“Deal.”

He must have fallen asleep again because the TV was on the local news when Jemma put a hand on his shoulder, he was covered in a quilt, which he left in place as he sat upright because it would be too uncomfortable to pull his jeans back up. She was dressed comfortably now, and she put a plate in his hands with a mozzarella and prosciutto sandwich on it, which Jemma made the aioli for herself. There were crisps on the side and a few carrot sticks.

It made him want to cry.

“You made my favorite sandwich,” he said.

Jemma sat beside him and leaned over, pecking his lips. “You deserve it. That was rather a nice afternoon.” She looked a little pink, and his face warmed as well.

“I don’t think I deserve this much of a treat,” he said around the bite he’d already taken.

Jemma laughed and patted his knee. “Fitz, it was a brilliant idea with the kissing.” She looked into his face. “We can keep doing it?”

“Yes! Of course.” Given the choice, he’d do it for the rest of their lives.

“I also liked when you put your arm under my knee. It allowed for deeper penetration and…” She trailed off and her eyes closed for a second as she smiled.

“You were just wonderful.” He’d started to run out of words that weren’t him clumsily confessing exactly how much he loved her. “I…I liked being spontaneous. Just going for it right where we were sitting.”

Jemma laughed. “I couldn’t have waited, I don’t think.”

After dinner, he went to change into pajamas, then loaded the dishwasher before returning to sit beside Jemma as she read. He had his tablet and played an inane game, too drunk on Jemma and her kisses to focus on anything intricate.

When she went to bed, he followed her to cuddle and was surprised when she turned enough in his arms to kiss him goodnight.

The world was a brighter place, and he could wait until Jemma figured out they were meant to be together.

****

When Fitz woke, it was to a super snuggly Jemma who kissed him—morning breath apparently wasn’t a concern— until she pushed him over on his back and climbed on top to have her way with him. It was a very nice way, with her pajama shirt undone so he could play with her tits.

Every morning should start with him feeling her boobs.

Seeming very pleased with herself, Jemma, smiling and fairly bouncing, went to take a shower while he dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and stared. Closed it, started the kettle, and opened it again.

He needed to work on the drone today and start figuring out what parts could be standardized and coming up with lists of what he needed. Jemma was going to write the pitch for the change in the project.

After standing for far too long and not doing anything, he decided eggs on toast and a can of beans would do.

Jemma, smelling sweet with her hair still wet, stopped in the kitchen to get her tea, give him a quick kiss, and grab the Scrabble bag. She went to sit on the couch, where he couldn’t see her, to start arranging the reference materials she’d need.

“I’m going to draw,” she called.

He was standing at the stove, scrambling eggs. “No cheating.”

“Just this once I won’t.” There was a pause. “I got zed.”

“We’re in America. It’s the letter: **Z**.”


	15. Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: There's a little bit of short-lived angst in this chapter (poor Jemma!), and I'm slightly behind on replying to comments and reading and reviewing but I don't work tonight so hopefully I'll get caught up! Thank you so much to everyone for supporting this fic!!! The love gives me life! :-D_

_Friday_

Work had not been bad for once, but Jemma was still drained as she wrote numbers down from an experiment that’d tested possible casing materials for the drones. Fitz had spent most of the week rebuilding his prototype and arguing with her about the programming and what each drone had to have for basic navigation as well as specialized sensors.

It’d been good arguing. Fun. Like being back at the Academy, talking things over too fast for anyone else to keep up with. They’d been holed up together in their lab most of the week, working at a crazy pace. Which is why it’d taken her a day or two to realize they were being gossiped about again.

Everyone, even Molly, were whispering when she and Fitz walked by. And there’d been an odd number of random people just strolling into the lab when she and Fitz were working. They’d apologize, or ask some lame question, and then retreat when both she and Fitz glared at them.

Honestly, the jealousy over the funding and recognition she and Fitz were getting was ridiculous. This project would save lives and bring criminals to justice. Things like this were why she’d joined SHIELD. This was where she could help the most.

Jemma sighed and put her clipboard down.

It was a lot of responsibility sometimes. Usually, the pressure got to Fitz more than her, but she’d been a little off emotionally in recent weeks for some reason. She just needed a chance to feel like she wasn’t herself, exactly. Earlier in the week, she’d been thinking about role-play in the bedroom for her and Fitz. Z would be zippers, but every permutation she thought of seemed silly. Playing cops and robbers, but in a sexy way, didn’t suit her.

She wanted to do something different than the usual roleplay. She’d make a terrible naughty nurse and would be more likely to put Fitz under the covers and take his temperature than maul him. Maybe they could just pretend they didn’t know each other? Like he could be at a bar and order her a drink. They could talk, and he could take her home. That might work.

Her phone beeped. **Lunch in my office?**

Instead of replying to the text, she opened her email. ‘Z=Zero knowledge’.

She walked to his office, opening the door to find him sitting there with a confused look on his face.

“I want you to pretend you don’t know me,” she said as she sat down and grabbed her lunch.

“Like I have amnesia?”

“No, just, let’s go to that new bar. You get there first, and I come in after and you pick me up and have a shag. I’m still Jemma, you’re still Fitz, but we pretend we’ve never met before.” He looked skeptical. “It’ll be fun.”

“If you say so.”

****

The bar wasn’t too crowded for a Saturday night. Jemma hoped the wine-red dress she was wearing, which showed off her cleavage and clung to her hips before stopping far short of her knees, wasn’t too much. Her hair was down around her shoulders, and she’d taken extra time to curl it. Her makeup was minimal because Fitz preferred her that way, which was cheating she supposed, but she was trying to make a good impression.

Her plans to pretend to herself that he was a new conquest went right out the window when she located him. Fitz was sitting at the bar and…talking to another woman?

Jemma frowned. The buxom blonde was leaning back against the counter in a clingy black dress and a pair of fuck-me shoes. What a tart. Fitz smiled up at the woman and Jemma’s blood boiled. He handed the woman a cell phone. Had he been putting his number in it?

Jemma walked as fast as her pumps would let her towards Fitz, who hadn’t noticed her yet.

“Should work now,” Fitz was saying, and Jemma paused. “They severely throttle these things.”

“Thanks, kid,” the woman said. She grabbed a glass of wine from the bar and wandered towards Jemma. She leaned in consipiratorily, and the overpowering smell of alcohol made Jemma want to cough. “That one,” the woman pointed at Fitz, “ain’t much to look at, but he’ll fix up your phone for free.”

“He’s kind of cute,” Jemma said.

The other woman laughed. “Like a puppy, but he’s the marrying kind, and I ain’t. He’s all yours.” She staggered off, and Jemma rolled her eyes.

Straightening her dress, she went to stand beside Fitz, who had a whiskey already in front of him. The blonde must have been blind-drunk because he looked very handsome with his curls tamed. He was wearing a blue button up with the sleeves were rolled up and he didn’t have a tie.

“This seat taken?” she asked as she sat down.

His lips pressed together like he was trying not to smile. “I guess it is now.” The ice in his glass clinked as he swirled the whiskey before taking a drink.

“Oh, you’re Scottish, that’s unexpected in Boston,” she said.  

Fitz did smile this time. “Sounds like you’re not from around here either.”

“Sheffield, originally.”

“What brought you to this side of the pond?”

“Work. What about you?”

The bartender, a tired-looking man, appeared in front of them. “Can I get you anything?”

“Another round,” Fitz said. “And whatever the lady’s drinking.”

The bartender’s eyes shifted to her, and he paused, almost like he was giving her a chance to escape, but Jemma thought she wouldn’t want to even if she wasn’t sitting beside her best friend. She’d want to know more about a Scot in Boston. “A gin and tonic, please.” The bartender left, and Jemma turned to smile at Fitz.

“I’m here for work too,” he said. “Engineering with a wide background, from aerospace to electrical.”

Jemma held her hand out. “I’m Doctor Jemma Simmons, Biochem.”

“Doctor Leopold Fitz, call me Fitz.” His fingers were warm as he clasped hers, and a tingle shot up her arm. This was fun. She’d been out to bars with girls from the office and had never run into anyone half as interesting sounding, or as attractive. She swiveled towards him on her stool, and he turned slightly towards her as well, propping his elbow on the bar and leaning his hand against his face.

“I don’t suppose you’ve found anywhere in Boston that serves a decent cuppa?”

Fitz laughed. “No, at the risk of sounding like I haven’t cut the apron strings, I have my mum send me my favorite kind.”

“I do too,” she said, smiling. The bartender returned and set their drinks down. “I miss a lot of things about home, but I like my work, so this is where I live.”

“Sounds like me,” he sighed. “I haven’t been back for a bit. Have you?”

It was odd, talking about things that they both knew, but exciting too. “No, the flight’s so long, and work keeps me busy. Saturday is usually my only day off.”

“Sounds like you work too hard, but I know the drill. It’s one crisis after another.” He rolled his eyes.

They talked and drank through a couple of rounds until a live band set up in one corner. They were playing slow songs, and several couples got up to dance in the area in front of the stage. Fitz glanced back and forth between the band and Jemma, then wiped his palms on his trousers.

“Do you want to dance?”

She almost said no, because Fitz hated dancing, but she wasn’t supposed to know that, and if she was just hooking up with someone, it would be expected.

“Sure,” she said, holding out her hand. Fitz took it, and they left their half-finished drinks on the bar and coats over the stools to keep their spot. At the corner of the dance floor, he settled his hands on her hips, and she put hers on his shoulders.

They swayed slowly to the music, and Jemma closed her eyes, breathing him in. She was so very aware of him, how much space he took up and the warmth of his body. There was no denying she was attracted to him, though it was impossible to sort that out from how much she enjoyed Fitz being in her life in a variety of ways. 

Partway through the song, one of his hands wandered a little lower. This was when she could take his wrist and move it back up, indicating that she wasn’t really interested. It surprised her a little that Fitz knew any of the subtle cues that signaled attraction. His palm slid a hair lower, and she sighed and moved closer to him. She’d never gotten past this stage with a stranger, but Fitz wasn’t a stranger, and his arms around her were welcoming and safe.

They melded together, and it wasn’t until a second song ended that he led her back to the bar.

“Sorry, I’m not much of a dancer,” he said as he reclaimed his stool.

“It was lovely. You did fine.” They were sitting with their knees touching now, and she licked her lips as Fitz’s adam’s apple bobbed as he tossed back the end of his drink. He was slightly flushed, and she was a bit tipsy too.

Fitz put his glass on the bar and leaned forward to run a finger across her thigh. “I don’t think I told you, but you look stunning. The color of this dress is amazing.”

“Thank you. Your shirt brings out your eyes.”

He smiled shyly. “Do you live near here?”

“Not far, I walked.”

“Me too, um, should I see you home?” He winced as he said it, and Jemma wanted to laugh. It was a completely transparent question, but he had to know the answer.

Before she could speak, the bartender appeared as if by magic. “Ready to close your tab?” Fitz nodded, and the man went to the register. He returned with the receipt for Fitz to sign but looked at Jemma. “Do you need me to call an Uber?”

It was sweet, though Jemma felt like she hardly needed protecting from Fitz. She leaned over the counter and dropped her voice. “I’m fine. We actually live together. This is just a bit of fun.”

The bartender gave her the first genuine smile she’d seen from him all night. “You two have a good night then.”

Fitz put his arm around her and led her out into the street, turning her towards their flat. The air was a bit chilly, and there was a fog creeping around the buildings.  “What’d you say to the bartender?” he asked.

“I told him you weren’t getting me alone to murder me with an ax. Or at least I hope not.”

Fitz chuckled. “That’s much too messy for me.”

“Can’t stand a little blood?”

“I work with machines for a reason.”

She laughed and tucked in closer to his side. “Why don’t you tell me about one of your projects?”

Fitz explained the drones in a bare-bones fashion, and she made sure to ask insightful questions because if he didn’t know her already, she’d want him to know how bright she was. Actually…that might be a bit of a lie. Jemma knew Fitz was well aware she was brilliant, and that he had no issues with it, but if she’d really just met a stranger she wanted to sleep with, even a fellow research scientist, she might not play up her brain because she wouldn’t want to seem intimidating.

It was much easier knowing Fitz wouldn’t be bothered by her intelligence.

They stopped in front of the building their flat was in. “This is me,” Fitz said. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Do you want to come up for a coffee?” His eyes raked her up and down, though there was a tiny hint of a smile on his face. He was certainly much bolder when he already knew her answer.

Jemma ran a finger down his chest. “I suppose.”

He grinned and took her hand. She followed him to the flat and Fitz opened the door. He ushered her in, pinning her against it as soon as it was closed. His mouth tasted of whiskey but was warm and inviting. She moaned as he slid his tongue against hers.

Fitz broke the kiss to whisper in her ear. “You’ll have to be quiet. I have a roommate.”

“Would she be mad if she knew you were bringing someone home from the bar?”

“Very.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Also very.” He kissed right under her ear and Jemma sighed.

“Are you going to be thinking of her while you fuck me?”

Fitz leaned back, his eyes half-lidded and his face impish as he pressed the bulge in his trousers against her. “Yes.” His voice was a deep rumble that sent shivers down her spine. Dear lord, there could be someone else in the apartment that he was going to be thinking about and she’d still sleep with him.

“Alright, but you better make it worth my time.”

He didn’t answer, just kissed her again, his hands wrapping around her waist. His lips slid over hers, then kissed a path along her jaw to her ear, which he nibbled at.

“Jemma,” he whispered. “A little help, I’m way out of my depth here.”

Knowing he was floundering a bit made her smile. There was her Fitz, even if he wasn’t supposed to be her Fitz right now. She grabbed his bum. “Your room?” she suggested.

Kissing her neck, he used his hands to direct her to turn and propelled her down the hallway towards his room. She pushed his jacket off, and he slid the straps of her dress from her shoulders. She shimmied out of it, leaving it in a puddle on the floor.

The bra had been the built-in kind, and Fitz immediately turned his attention to her bare breasts, grabbing one with his hand and cupping it as he did something wonderful with his fingers to her nipple that made her breathing hitch.

He closed the door and flipped the lock behind them as they entered his room.

She needed to touch him, and went after the buttons on his shirt, undoing them as fast as she could while Fitz bent down to suck on her breast, his tongue and mouth sending shockwaves of desire through her. When the last button was free, he pulled the shirt off, and Jemma ran her hands over his back, raking lightly with her nails.

Fitz groaned softly and undid his trousers, pushing them down and kicking them off, leaving him in his boxers. They weren’t doing a great job of containing his prick. Jemma kissed him hard as her hand stroked him through the fabric. He bucked against her palm.

She was a little adrift, never having been quite so forward with someone who was supposedly a stranger. Nerves would have made her much more chatty and less prone to strip naked, not that Fitz needed to know that. She would have asked about the Roomba in pieces on his desk or the journals beside it.

This overwhelming lust, that had her sneaking her hand in the front of his boxers to fist his cock, was entirely Fitz related. A ramped-up version of the warm feelings she’d had for him since they’d first had a lab together. It was confusing. Her boyfriends had never remotely made her feel this desperate, like she’d keel over and die if he didn’t hurry up and get inside her.

Fitz broke their kiss, his chest heaving and his eyes dark. “Take your knickers off.”

Lust pulsed through her in a sharp wave. She let go of his cock and took a step back. Fitz's gaze followed her, and he palmed his hard-on through his pants. Biting her lips, she pushed her knickers down. “How do you want me?” she asked.

Fitz took a deep breath and slid his shorts off. Dear lord, she needed him right now. His cock was pointing right at her, like a compass needle indicating what he wanted.

“Turn around,” he said hoarsely. “Keep your legs together, and bend over the bed.”

Giving him a last look that lingered on his prick, she slowly turned and leaned down to brace herself on the mattress, giving Fitz an eyeful of her rear and pussy. She was very slick.

There was a sound of a drawer opening and closing, but then Fitz was behind her, his hand trailing over her folds.

“Are you always this wet, lass?”

Jemma had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. Lass? That was laying it on a bit thick. Not that she entirely minded, but he sounded like a cartoon.

He slapped her rear, and she yelped. “Asked ye a question.”

Bloody hell, she was going to end up the floor laughing. “Um, no, just for you.”

“That’s right. I’m goin’ to fuck ye good.”

Jemma squeezed her eyes closed. He sounded like Scrooge McDuck. Was this how he tried to pick up girls? She needed to have a talk with him. Though the idea of him trying to pick up a girl that wasn’t her sent a pain through her chest.

Fitz was hers. His friendship, and his silly side, his serious side, his mind, now even his sexy side. There wasn’t a point in the future where she would suddenly be okay with him dating someone else ever again because…because…

Jemma’s knees trembled as Fitz pressed his cock against her opening.

Everything became crystal clear. All the warm feelings, how she never felt quite right if he wasn’t there, how the entire world was better when they were cuddled up, how much she wanted him like this.

Fuck.

She was in love with her best friend. Had been for donkey’s years.

Fitz groaned and pushed forward, his cock easily sliding into her. With her legs together, it felt like she was stretched even more than normal. She was full.

And she loved him.

Only something was off.

Fitz put his hands on her hips and thrust in and out slowly, groaning. What the hell was different? Jemma put her hands between her legs, a moan escaping as she brushed her clit, then moved her thighs far enough apart to get her hand between them. Her fingertips skittered over his shaft, but it felt…oh, he was wearing a condom.

Like this really was a one-night stand.

Why did he have condoms?

Had he actually been bringing women home, screwing them like this while she’d been asleep?

Her stomach lurched, and she felt sick.

“Fitz, stop. Um, all of it, no more pretending. Red.”

“Jemma?” He pulled out, and she perched on the side of the bed. He came to sit beside her. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you do this?”

“What?”

“Bring girls here while I’m sleeping?”

His jaw dropped open. “What?”

“You’re just…so good at this, well, except for the ridiculous accent. You sounded barmy.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

“Do you have girls bend over like that? Do you think of me?”

Fitz’s mouth dropped open. In exasperation, she reached over and rolled the condom off him as his prick started to soften.

She held up the latex. “Why do you have condoms?”

Fitz slid off the bed and laid his head on her knees.

“Jemma, I swear I’ve never, ever brought anyone here. I’ve never even picked someone up. I would never…christ, Jemma. No. That’s not me. I bought the condoms when I stopped for a soda on Friday night. I thought it might help with the us pretending not to know each other thing.”

He looked completely distraught.

Jemma put her head in her hands as remorse flooded her. Of course he hadn’t.  Fitz would hate that sort of thing. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. Now I’ve ruined our night.”

“No, no night with you is ever ruined.” He kissed her knee. “And while I appreciate you thinking I have any clue about what I’m doing, I really don’t. I was trying to imagine what you’d want if you had just picked me up. Why would you? The accent? Maybe? God, I’m nothing to look at, couldn’t be that, so I didn’t want you to face me.”

“Oh, Fitz, that’s not true. I find you very handsome.” She sat down on the floor beside him. Her emotions were all in an impossible knot. She loved him. Her future was with Fitz, she just had to figure out how to make him realize that, and snapping at him and being jealous for no reason was not the way to do it.

She couldn’t just dump her convoluted feelings on him either. There was no messing this up. For years now, he’d been the single most important person in her life. She couldn’t just not have him beside her, especially not because she was being an utter ninny who was in love. They still had the rest of the alphabet to go, and even if it took her to the last letter, she’d show him they were right as a couple in all aspects of their lives.

“Thank you,” he said, looking more at the bedspread than her.

“You were doing brilliantly before I mucked it up. Thank you for dancing with me.”

“It was more like swaying.”

“It counted. And for being funny, charming, and so interesting. Kissing against the door was hot, and wonderful. I couldn’t wait to get started, and I’m sorry, the condom threw me and I just…turned into a jealous girlfriend even though…I’m not anything of the sort. Girlfriend, I mean. I most certainly was jealous.”

She expected Fitz to laugh, but instead, he looked pained. “I’d never give you a reason to be jealous.”

The tiniest thread of hope kindled in her chest. Maybe she already wasn’t just an experiment to him, or maybe he was just being a good friend.

“It’s late,” she said. “Can we go to sleep?”

“Sure. I’ll see you in the morning?” He wasn’t quite looking at her again.

Jemma worried her bottom lip. “Can I stay here?”

Fitz glanced up at her and smiled shyly. “I’d like that.” He stood and pulled her up, then held the sheets up so she could lie down.

“That’s better,” she said as he tucked himself in behind her and turned the light off. “I’m really sorry.”

Fitz put his arm around her. “Hush, lass, or I’ll talk like this to ye all the ‘morrow.”

Laughter bubbled up, and he kissed the back of her neck as she giggled. “Okay, you win.”

“I’m going to need that in writing.”

“Tomorrow.”

“I’ll remind you.”

“I’m sure.” Jemma closed her eyes. The pillow and sheets smelled like Fitz, and it was comforting. She was surrounded by him. Why hadn’t they’d slept in his bed before? It was a delight.

And she loved him.

****

Jemma woke up in the morning to a headache. She wasn’t quite hungover, but it was close. She rolled over to face Fitz, who was asleep on his back with the quilt pushed down so she could see his prick.

She snuggled against him, letting the enjoyment of being close to him wash over her. It was the same as always, but now she knew. She was feeling love. How had she not known? She’d fallen in love with him when she was sixteen and not known. It was impossible.

Only…

Hadn’t she always known he would be in her life for a long time? Hadn’t she been dreaming of a little lab together with him, once they’d seen the world? They lived together, ate nearly every meal together, worked together.

Jemma reached over and put her hand on his chest. He was warm, and his heartbeat steady.

There wasn’t a future where she didn’t wake up beside him.

She cuddled close to him, tracing her fingers over his chest and belly. Her fingers followed the trail of hair below his belly button to his groin, where his cock was much perkier than it had been. She hid her smile against his side and teased her fingers over his pubic hair and thighs, even stroking up the underside of his shaft.

He was soon completely erect.

Jemma pushed herself up and straddled his legs. “Fitz?” she called softly. “Fitz, time to wake up.”

His face scrunched up. “Too early.” He frowned and raised his head to look at his hard-on, and then up at her. His eyes got wide. “I was wrong. Not too early. Great timing.”

“Good morning.” She ran her hands over her body, pressing one to her pussy and rubbing her clit. Fitz squeaked and his head sagged against the bed. She fisted his cock, and his eyes shut as she stroked it.

“This is much better, with it being just you,” he said.

“Agreed.” She positioned herself and sank down. She paused, savoring the feel of being connected to him. Fitz’s hands skimmed up her thighs and then her belly. One stopped at her breasts, but the other continued to her face.

She rode him slowly and sucked his thumb into her mouth when he ran it over her lips.

“Jems,” he whispered. “Oh god, Jems. You feel so good.”

“Tell me.”

“Fucking you feels so good, not just your cunt, all of you. Perfect tits, soft skin—" he dropped both of his hands to her rear “—luscious arse. I can’t get enough of you. Never get enough of you.” His face was almost pained.

Her body coiled tight as her fingers strummed faster over her clit, and she rode him harder. She loved him.

Fitz thrust upwards, making her keen. “I…I’ll…I’ll always love…being in the lab with you. Working beside you.”

“I love that too.” Her hips snapped down hard, and her orgasm blossomed like a supernova. “Fitz,” she gasped, falling forward to press her lips to his.  The kisses were messy, and she squeaked as Fitz put his arms around her and rolled them both over.

“Sorry, I need to…” He groaned and pumped into her. She cupped his cheek and kissed him hard, letting her legs fall open. Her hands glided over his back as she welcomed him inside her again and again. She’d always welcome him. His body shuddered as he came, his cock pulsing. Jemma cradled him against her, until he lay beside her, still panting.

Jemma curled against him, dozing until her body insisted she use the loo. Breakfast was pancakes, and afterward Jemma sat with a mug of tea, trying to read through a journal article, but Fitz was being distracting by sitting beside her on the couch and doing something on his tablet. She inched over until her leg was pressed against his.

He looked up and smiled, then went back to his tablet. Jemma blinked at her article. It was really interesting, and she needed to—

Fitz scooted over and nestled his arm and hip against her.

Jemma vainly tried to continue reading, then sighed and tossed the journal on the coffee table. She rubbed at her face with the sleeves of her jumper. She couldn’t possibly be turning into one of those girls that thought about nothing but boys. Well, one boy.

Oh, phewey. She’d just realized she loved that boy. She could have an entire day to wallow in it.

Fitz set his tablet down. “Everything alright?”

“I need a break. Want to watch the telly?”

“Sure.”

Jemma moved to sit sideways across his lap, and Fitz flicked through the channels, settling on some terrible movie on SyFy. There were sharks with multiple heads, or maybe it was just one shark, anyway, it made her laugh. On the second commercial break, Fitz turned his head and kissed her. It was soft and undemanding and made her feel like she was a balloon full of helium, bumping against the ceiling.

When the movie came back on, they returned to watching it, but at the next set of commercials, she kissed him in the same way. It felt like they had all the time in the world.

When the next movie in the series started, Jemma’s body was humming with energy. She wanted more than kisses, but she needed something to drink first. Going to the kitchen, she downed a glass of water, feeling like she’d missed something.

The tile for next week!

Jemma pulled the bag out and carried it to the living room. She stopped in front of Fitz and pulled her shirt off. His eyes went wide. She followed it with her bra.

“Much better show,” he said. “Come here.”

She straddled him, and he zeroed in on her tit, sucking her nipple into his mouth. She shook the scrabble bag. “Need to pick.”

He kept his attention on her breast but pawed the air in the bag's direction. She guided his hand to it, and he rummaged around, pulling one out and bringing it to where he could see it. Fitz raised a brow and turned it towards her: N.


	16. N

Fitz woke on Monday morning to his alarm going off. He reached over Jemma to shut it off. Her hair was a mess, and she was pouting, so he settled down and cuddled against her.

“Good morning,” he said as she pressed her face to his chest.

“Morning,” came the muffled reply.

He stroked her back. It’d been a hell of a weekend, but his heart was soothed by her wanting to be close to him. They were in his bed. After a wonderful Sunday of not doing much except happily making love, he’d gone to bed and stared at the ceiling until his door had creaked open and Jemma had peeked in. Fitz had waved her over and sleep had come easy after that.

He always felt much better when the love of his life was close.

It was hard to gauge how well he was doing with her, though her spitting fire on Saturday­ night—after he’d stopped thinking she was going to storm out—had been a clear sign that she felt something for him. You didn’t care about someone’s past assignations if you were just screwing them for no reason.

Sunday had been even better. Dr. Jemma Simmons had forgone work to lay about on the couch with him, make out, and hump. It’d been almost perfect. Completely perfect would have been him telling her every five minutes how in love with her he was, but he could be patient.

In the evening she’d helped him reassemble the Roomba, which had been far less interesting on the inside than he’d thought, and they’d set it up to vacuum around the flat. He’d caught her cooing at it more than once and thought she might have given it a name.

There was no getting rid of it now. Fifty years from now he’d still be coaxing it into working so that Jemma would never have to be sad over their vacuum. Because he loved her.

The alarm went off again, and she rolled so her back was to him to silence it. Fitz put an arm around her and nuzzled her hair.

“We have to get up,” she said, not sounding very convincing.

“I don’t know what you’re doing still asleep.” He inhaled deeply. She smelled of shampoo and sleepy Jemma, an enticing combination. “You’re always up before me.” He was used to Jemma bustling around in the morning before his alarm even went off. It was usually what made him get out of bed.

“But you’re warm and comfortable.” Her voice was almost a whine. “It’s nice in here with you.”

Jemma turned over to face him, and he kissed her. Her nails lightly scratched his cheek as she put a hand on his face. “It’s very nice,” he said, breaking the kiss. “If it gets much nicer, we’re going to be very late for work.”

“Damn it.” She sighed and rolled on her back. “That sounds much better than dealing with our boss and coworkers.”

It seemed like this was as good a time as any to bring up the thoughts that had been nagging him about Milton and Sherri. He propped his head on one hand, yawning as she stretched. “I actually have a question about some of our coworkers, especially the ones we’ve, uh, been closer to than others.”

Jemma sat up, and he couldn’t help but run his hand under her shirt, trailing up her spine. “What about these people I don’t want to think about?”

“Well, you have noticed everyone has been…whispering a lot at work?” She nodded, so he continued. “Do you think that they might be trying to sort of…spy on us? Out of jealousy? Or looking for ideas to steal?”

Jemma stood and turned towards him, crossing her arms under her breasts in a way that made his mouth water. Her nose was wrinkled up. “Are you suggesting that Milton and Sherri were dating us to spy on our research?”

“Maybe? Sounds preposterous when I say it out loud.”

“A bit, but…” She trailed off and worried her thumbnail as she considered. “Well, I don’t think Milton is that smart, and Sherri broke it off with you, which I don’t think she’d do if she was trying to take your work.”

“Good point.”

“I’ve been thinking it’s jealousy. We have our own lab, we work well together, we’re leagues beyond our colleagues in brain power, and we’re decently funded. If Richard would just give us a project that would let us shine, we’d be in the field or working at the Hub in no time.”

He nodded and sat up, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I’m just getting tired of it. It’s like being twelve all over again.”

Standing, he got out of the way as Jemma made the bed. Yawning, Fitz shuffled down the hallway, eyes half-open and heading for the loo.

His foot hit something, and he yelped, ending up on his arse as the bloody vacuum spun, then resumed its course.

Jemma came running out of his room and bent down, right by the Roomba. “Are you okay?” she asked it. “Did the mean man hurt you?”

Fitz groaned and climbed back to his feet. “Thing’s a hazard,” he muttered, wincing as his ankle protested him walking on it. “I should have put it in the rubbish.”

“Don’t you listen to him, Roomie.” Jemma glared at Fitz. “He doesn’t mean it.”

 “And for the record, I’m okay too.”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously, but try not to injure Roomie in the future.”

Fitz nodded. “Promise.” Dear lord, she had named it. He really was going to be stuck with a robotic vacuum underfoot forever.

****

_Tuesday_

It was shaping up not to be too bad of a week at work. Several people were out of the office to consult, including Trevor and Sherri, and he felt like there were far fewer people leaning over his shoulder, which was an excellent thing because he was starting in on some of the more revolutionary aspects of the forensic drones that he had no intention of sharing with anyone anytime soon.

Except for Jemma, of course.

They were at a workbench, and she was frowning into the open case of one of the drones. “There’s not much room,” she said.

“Not at all.”

“Are we still agreed they should look uniform?”

Fitz nodded. It’d been an idea Jemma had come up with, that instead of making the drones look specialized, even though they’d be carrying different sensor suites, that they should mostly look the same, so that if someone saw one who wasn’t supposed to, they wouldn’t know which function that particular drone was carrying out.

Brilliant.

The problem was there just wasn’t a lot of room for anything.

“Any ideas?” she asked, crouching down to get a different angle.

“I’m going to miniaturize parts of the motor and decrease how much space it takes up.” He showed her with his fingers what he intended.

“That’s impossible.”

“Seriously?” He set his hands on his hips. “You don’t think I can do it?”

“I’m not sure physics will let you do it.”

Fitz scoffed. “Simmons, have some faith.”

“Those parts are going to have to be incredibly small but extremely robust. They can’t be breaking every two seconds.”

“I’m going to prove it to you.” An idea was forming in the back of his head, and his fingers tingled, eager to get to work.

“I can hardly wait.”

****

_Friday_

Fitz balanced a pen on the end of his finger, for about a nanosecond. It fell to his desk with a clatter, but Jemma didn’t even look up. She was busy working on her long-term experiment which seemed to be running fine so far. The week had gone by fast, and they’d both been busy, but especially Jemma, which had worked out for him because he’d need to work on how he was going to convince her that he could successfully make the motors both strong and tiny.

Jemma hadn’t even noticed he’d swiped the nipple clamps out of her drawer.

They were a fairly simple affair: two rubber-tipped prongs with an adjuster and a set of beads handing off the end.

Or they had been simple until he’d pieced together two tiny motors that could open and close the clamps to whatever degree he chose on a remote. They were light, and he’d even been able to leave the beads attached without much of an issue.

What had been a problem was working on the clamps knowing it’d be Jemma’s tits they would be attached to. She would make such amazing sounds.

It was going to be pleasurable for her and prove his point. Win-win.

Unable to wait, he left the pen on his desk and unlocked his mobile. He sent a quick email. ‘N=nipple clamps’.

Jemma’s phone beeped, and she absently grabbed it, opening her mail without paying attention. Her eyes flicked to the screen and then up at him as her cheeks turned pink. “What a lovely idea.”

Fitz leaned across the desk towards her. “I’m going to make you come so hard.”

“Fitz!” Her face flushed brighter, and she lowered her voice. “You better.” Her smile was wide and mischievous. He winked, and she laughed.

There was a knock at the door, and they both sobered as Fitz called, “Come in.”

Richard opened the door. “Progress?”

Jemma sat up straighter. “I’m getting clearer results on my long-term bio project, and the forensic drones are coming along nicely.”

“I have the outer cases ready,” Fitz added. “And most of the sensors are working reliably now. I should be able to get the motors in soon.”

Richard nodded. “See that you do.” He slammed the door closed.

Jemma slumped. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.” Her foot bumped against Fitz’s under the desk.

“Yeah, me either.”

****

_Saturday_

Fitz tossed the tail end of the popcorn into the trash as he walked out of the theater with Jemma. They’d gone to a matinee showing of some action flick or other that was instantly forgettable, except for the physically impossible car chase that he was busily calculating out what the actual damage would be on the vehicles involved as well as the G-forces involved.

“I bet the guy in the red car would have passed out when he jumped it from one side of that rising drawbridge to the other,” Jemma said, squeezing Fitz’s hand where she was holding it.

“The front end would have been smashed, and the axle bent with how he landed it,” Fitz grumbled, and Jemma beamed at him. “Bloke wouldn’t have had to worry about driving too far while he was unconscious.”

“I’m so glad you always know just what I’m talking about.” Her shoulder bumped his, and they shared a smile.

It’d been the best movie not quite a date he’d ever been on. They always got drinks, popcorn, and candy that complimented each other and shared, but this time he’d been able to put his arm around her, she had her hand on his knee or holding his, and there’d even been a few kisses.

It was everything he could have wanted it to be, including the fact he was going to go home with her and make her scream.

They got in the car in the parking lot, and Fitz leaned over, cupping Jemma’s cheek and kissing her. “Can’t wait to get you home.”

“Ah, yes, there’s laundry to do.” Her smile was teasing.

“I do like a good stain removal.” The car started smoothly, and he backed out of the parking spot, put it in drive, and set his hand on Jemma’s knee, making little circles with his fingers.

She leaned back in her seat, smiling. “I’m partial to the spin cycle myself.”

“Mmm,” he agreed, working his hand a little higher on her leg. Jemma squirmed.

“Though a good hand scrub really is the best.”

He laughed hard at that, and so did Jemma. “Wow.”

“I’m trying,” she said with a shrug.

“Trust me, you don’t have to try very hard. If you look at me, I want to touch you.” Since he didn’t need to play coy, he slid his hand up to her crotch and rubbed at where her clit should be. Her little moan was beautiful. Circling her hips, she pressed back against him.

His prick stirred and at the next stop light he adjusted his rapidly hardening cock. Jemma’s eyes were closed, and she was making delightful noises as Fitz pressed the seam of her trousers against her clit.

It was difficult not to pull over and climb on top of her, but he had a mission. The drive wasn’t long, and as soon as he was parked at their flat, Jemma hopped out, and he was slamming the car door behind him and locking it.

They giggled as they ran up the stairs. Fitz caught her arm on the landing and turned her back towards him, crashing into her and capturing her mouth with his.

“Oh, Fitz,” Jemma panted, grabbing his arse and shamelessly rubbing against his cock. He groaned, pushing her against the wall and snogging her harder, his tongue sweeping between her lips. Before he shagged her in the stairwell, he managed to step back and direct her towards the next flight.

“Got plans,” he said when Jemma looked at him in bleary-eyed confusion. They managed to make it to their flat. When the door opened, he gave her a little shove towards the hallway. “Your room, get ready, I’ll be right there.”

Fitz pulled off his clothes, except for his boxers, and dropped them on the floor before grabbing the modified nipple clamps and remote from his desk. The light in Jemma’s room was on, the covers of her bed tossed to the floor, and she was lying on her back in the middle of the bed completely naked and with two fingers of one hand stuffed in her pussy and the other hand playing with her clit.

“Fuck,” he breathed, transfixed by the sight. He palmed his cock through his boxers.

“I couldn’t find the nipple clamps,” she said. “Sorry.”

“I’ve got them.” He forced his legs to carry him to the bed and climb onto it. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Her response was a whimper, and he scooted over beside her, leaning down to kiss her lips, then her jaw, and down her neck. Fitz kept going until he reached her nipple and sucked it into his mouth as he cupped her tit. His cock jerked, and he moaned.

The bud of her nipple, already hard, tightened further as he sucked and laved it. When it was shiny with spit, he slipped the ends of one of the tweezer-like nipple clamps on and tapped the motor to activate it. The sides moved together just enough to hold the clamp in place.

“That okay?” he asked, brushing his lips against her ear. It certainly looked exciting from his perspective with her nipple caught up between the prongs.

“Do the other one, please,” she said, her knees falling further apart as she fingered herself.

That sounded promising, so he leaned across her to tease the other nipple with his mouth until it was wet and ready. The other clamp went on as easily as the first, and he activated the motor. Remote in hand, he situated himself between her thighs and lowered his face until he could nuzzle her hands out of the way to lick at her pussy.

Jemma mewled and sank her fingers into his hair.

“You’re fucking wet,” he told her pussy. “My cock would slide in so easily. Tell me about your tits while I’m eating you out.”

Jemma’s fingers tightened and relaxed. “Feels good, two bright spots of…of…I know the clamps are on and it’s like the pleasure from your tongue runs right up and gets trapped there.” One of her feet stroked down his back. “Put your fingers in me and can you…tighter?”

He tapped the button on the remote and Jemma gasped, then groaned as he pushed his fingers inside her. Her clit was distended, and she was soaking his hand as he crooked his fingers, seeking just the right spot. Jemma pushed herself up on her hand, her hips rocking as he sucked and licked her clit.

She tasted like heaven, and if it wasn’t for the insistent ache of his prick, he could have lived with his face between her thighs. The scent of her was driving him around the bend.

“Fitz,” she whispered. “I’m…” Her hips moved faster, and her inner walls clamped around his fingers. “Fitz!” Her pussy pulsed as she came, a fresh wave of wetness coating his fingers.

As soon as she relaxed against the mattress, he grabbed the remote to the clamps and wiggled up her body until his lips were over his. To his surprise, she surged up and kissed him, even though his mouth was still coated with her desire.

She licked his lips, sighing in satisfaction. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

“You have?”

“Yes.” Her arms went around him. “Your mouth always looks so delicious after you go down on me.”

“Oh.” With most of his blood in his cock, he didn’t have the brain power to comprehend that statement entirely at the moment. “Are the clamps okay?”

“Yes, I like them. I think just a little bit more pressure would be alright.”

“Soon.” He leaned in to kiss her again, but Jemma only grinned and rolled them over. He was content to lie flat on his back as she stripped his boxers off his legs and kissed her way up his thigh to his cock.

She gave it a fond little kiss, then drug one of her tits over it, the metal of the clamp cold against him. He groaned and arched up, pressing his cock against the softness of her breast. Desire zipped through him. “Fuck, you have nice tits.”

Jemma smiled as she straddled him. “What do they do to you?”

He knew it was an invitation to let his mouth run. “Make me bloody hard. Anytime you bend over, and I can see down your shirt all I want to do is come all over them, or suck those sweet nipples. I know you like it when I do that.”

She positioned the head of his cock at her opening. “Do you like when I ride you?”

“So goddamn much. I can watch your titties bounce, and fuck, Jems, you know that you being in charge turns me on. Can’t think of anything besides you when you’re fucking me.”

Jemma sank down on his shaft with a soft cry, and he pressed the button to tighten the clamps a tiny bit more.

“Oh, that’s just right,” she said, then moaned as she circled her hips.

“That’s good,” he encouraged. “Use my cock to get off. Those clamps look so amazing.” He was transfixed by the jiggle of her breasts and the sway of the beads hanging off the end of the nipple clamps. He was a genius.

Jemma’s hands were braced on his chest and her fingers dug in as she fucked him. He was steadily climbing towards a hell of an orgasm, but couldn’t resist raising a hand to flick at the end of one of the clamps. She moaned, so he did it to the other side.

“Not too much,” she said softly. The poor things had to be sensitive, as squished as they were, so Fitz put his palm on her hip instead, encouraging her to use him hard.

“Are you close?”

His only answer was a moan and the grip of her pussy around his cock. He jerked up into her, pushing upwards every time she dropped down.

Fuck, she was amazing.

Fuck, he loved her.

Jemma’s toes, which were against his thighs, curled, and she sucked in a breath.

His finger hovered over the remote for the clamps.

She bounced a few more times and came. He slammed his finger down on the release button and the clamps undid, dropping down onto him.

Jemma yelled. It sounded a bit like his name, and he was chuffed as she ground her cunt against him, her pussy pulsating.

He’d gotten the timing just right.

Her nails scratched at him as she writhed and his balls demanded he come soon.

Both hands gripping her ass, he lifted her slightly and fucked up into her hard and fast. His eyes slid closed, and there was nothing but the feel of her warm, wet pussy around his prick.

His legs quivered, and he grunted as he peaked, shooting his release as deep as he could get inside her. Jemma was making happy, soothing noises and petting his chest.

“You still with me?” she asked.

He nodded and stretched his legs. Jemma lifted herself and lay down beside him, cuddled against his side.

“What did you think about the clamps?” he asked, voice hoarse.

She picked one up and brought it to her face to inspect it. “Very nice. Wherever did you get the remote?”

He could feel himself grinning like a maniac.

Jemma frowned and narrowed her eyes. “Oh my god, this is the drone technology. Did you do this to make a point?”

“Very small, powerful, precise, and robust.”

Jemma snorted, then outright laughed. “You are the only man I know that would prove himself by making remote control nipple clamps.” She put her hand on his face and turned him towards her for a soft kiss. “Fitz, I really do…think the world of you.”

Her eyes were serious as she lay her head on his shoulder.

He’d take it. Those words were more than enough for now. “Thank you. It’s not easy to impress the famed Dr. Simmons.”

“You’ve always impressed me.”

He stroked her shoulder with his thumb.

There was a whirr from the hallway as Roomie passed by, doing his thing.

“I suppose we should have dinner,” Fitz said after a few moments.

“I have salad in the fridge.”

“Can we go out?” he asked hopefully.

“I have salad in the fridge. For us.”

Damn. “Can I pick what’s on the telly?”

“I think you earned that.”

“What do I have to do to get out of salad?”

“You are never getting out of salad.”

Damn.

****

_Sunday_

Fitz woke to Jemma poking his arm and a series of beeps from the living room.

“Fitz,” she said. “I think Roomie’s stuck, go rescue him.”

“Why am I doing this?”

“Because I said so.”

“Right.” Fitz wiggled out of her embrace. “I get bacon for breakfast.”

“If you make it.”

“Bacon, toast, and fruit?”

“I’ll be up in a minute.”

He padded out of the room in nothing but pajama pants, not wanting to bother finding a clean shirt. They never had gotten to the laundry yesterday.

He found the Roomba stuck between the wall and the couch. Somehow, the sofa had gotten pushed back on one side but not the other. His little tune and beeps were forlorn, and Fitz felt terrible that Roomie had gotten jammed. Fitz moved the couch and sent him on his way, then headed to the kitchen.

After setting a pan on the stove, Fitz took the bacon out of the fridge and grabbed the bread. His stomach rumbled as he retrieved the bag of Scrabble tiles, and he fished in the far back of the drawer, pulling out one of the little packs of Oreos he had hidden there.

Jemma should be another minute, so he opened the two-pack of biscuits and stuffed the one entire Oreo in his mouth, biting down just as Jemma walked in. She looked at his hand with the tile bag and remaining biscuit, and then at his mouth.

“Fitz, really?”

“You weren’t supposed to see,” he mumbled around the chocolaty goodness in his mouth.

She sauntered across the kitchen, looking intimidating for being in old yoga pants and a faded Academy t-shirt with her hair up in a ponytail. With a huff, she plucked the biscuit from its wrapper, looked him dead in the eye, and shoved it into her mouth. He snorted, which almost sent crumbs everywhere, and she laughed, black bits of Oreo sticking to her lips and teeth. She’d never looked better.

With a flourish, he held the bag out to her, and she reached in and pulled out a letter as they finished their treat. It was the letter: **G**.


	17. G

_Tuesday_

Jemma stood next to Fitz, mug in hand, blearily waiting on the kettle in the break room.

She was tired, which was her own fault. She’d tossed and turned all night, feeling lonely. It would have been easy to walk down the hall to Fitz’s room, and he most likely wouldn’t have turned her away, but she’d set herself the limit of not doing that too often because she didn’t want him to feel smothered. And dealing with the giant emotion of being in love with him was exhausting in and of itself.

Like right now, she kept darting her eyes over to how his hand was wrapped around his mug. She liked his fingers and how they touched her. How they kneaded her arse or breasts, how they felt when he rammed them deep into her pussy. It was tempting to loosen his hold on the cup so she could raise his hand to her mouth and suck on his finger one by one to let him know how much she enjoyed them.

But she couldn’t.

She also couldn’t turn to him and gush about how she wanted them to spend their entire lives side by side. Or talk about how she’d been miserable without him holding her and that she’d ended up getting her vibrator out and using it while re-watching the videos Fitz had sent her of him wanking because the way he gasped her name turned her on.

When she’d put the vibrator away following a not very satisfying orgasm, she’d brought up a picture of him smiling at the camera and holding a skeeball from the last time they’d had dinner at the pizza place. She’d set it next to her in the bed like a ninny and fallen asleep that way.

She really didn’t think she would be able to resist sneaking into his bed every night, and this lack of sleep would not help her perform optimally at work. Maybe…maybe she didn’t have to isolate herself. Fitz did seem to enjoy her company.

Tilting her head up, she studied him. He had one eye closed and looked mostly asleep. Jemma leaned against his shoulder. “Fitz?”

“Urgh?”

“Can I sleep with you?”

Both his eyes popped open, and he nearly dropped his cup. “What? Now?”

“I didn’t mean—” she rolled her eyes “—I meant at home. At night. Like actual sleeping in the same bed.”

His shoulders slumped and she couldn’t tell if he was relieved or disappointed. “All the time?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yes. I slept poorly last night, and I think it was because I missed you.”

Fitz made an impatient sound. “Why didn’t you just come to my bed?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You could never bother me. And I would have slept better too. So, yes, please, I would like you in my arms every night.”  

That made her smile. “I want to kiss you right now. Thank you.”

Fitz swayed towards her.

“Hey, guys!” Molly said, interrupting them. Jemma turned in tandem with Fitz to glare at her, and she took a step back. “Just so you know, it’s kind of creepy when you two do the whole horror movie twins routine.”

Jemma made a face. “What?”

“Doing the same things at the same time. It’s weird.”

“Thank you for that analysis,” Fitz said dryly.

“Anyway, wait…were you guys going to kiss?” Molly beamed at them.

“No,” Jemma said at the exact same time as Fitz.

Molly shook her head. “As I said, creepy. I guess I should tell you I was sent to get you, Richard is freaking out and just called a meeting. Five minutes in the big conference room.”

“Thanks,” Jemma said, forcing a smile. Molly darted her gaze back and forth between Jemma and Fitz, then waved and wandered off.

Fitz let out a sigh. “Great.”

“Entirely.” The kettle boiled, and they made their cups before hurrying to the conference room. It seemed like the entire office was already there and they had to squish in along the back wall.

“Nice of you to join us,” Richard said, glowering at them. Jemma didn’t respond beyond a small nod. Richard stood. “Now that we’re all here, I have something important to announce. The timetable for the inspection by the heads of SHIELD is happening much sooner than originally planned. You have two weeks.”

Jemma could feel Fitz jerk beside her and mutter a curse.

“There go our weekends,” she whispered, covering the motion of her lips behind her tea mug before taking a sip.

Richard crossed his arms and frowned at the entire room. “This means we have work to do, unless you would all rather be assigned to Timbuktu doing facility maintenance. Fitz-Simmons, those drones need to be operational.” Jemma put a hand on Fitz’s arm to prevent him from responding. Two weeks to have eight fully functional forensic drones would be almost impossible. They’d both be working around the clock with little time for sleeping or eating, let alone anything else.

Fitz was vibrating with indignation. She squeezed his arm.

“Dismissed,” Richard said, still glowering.

Jemma and Fitz shuffled out with everyone else.

Jemma led him to their lab where the sensors and drones were laid out.

Fitz set his mug down and dragged a hand down his face. “Bloody buggering fuck.”

“We’ll do it. My other major project is the long-term one, which can’t be rushed, so this is all I have to focus on. Let me start putting together training programs for the AI, the time table on that needs to be stepped up.”

Fitz glanced at the door, then swept her into a hug. “I’m apologizing now for how much I’ll snap at you in the next two weeks.”

“You’re fine. Just remember to eat. And it is a little exciting, isn’t it? This is our chance to prove that SHIELD’s faith in our abilities is not misplaced. I’m honestly excited about what doors this could open for us.”

Fitz took a step back, gazing at her as he tapped two fingers against his lips. “Thank you, Jemma.”

“For what?”

“For being you.” He kissed her forehead and turned to focus on the drones. “Let’s get started.”

****

_Friday_

The drones were still in hundreds of pieces all over the lab, and Jemma had yet to solve the AI problem of them getting clustered together and then stuck in a corner.

Helping their program learn was a more daunting task than she’d realized.

She and Fitz had been working eighteen or more hour days, and would be in the lab Saturday and Sunday as well. The few hours of sleep they got they did spend curled up together in her bed, which was lovely. Jemma had worried about Roomie getting lonely, but had caught Fitz dropping crumbs on the floor, and he’d sheepishly admitted it was to give their Roomba something to do while they were gone.

She fell in love with him all over again.

The work itself, while tiring, was exhilarating. Nothing had been done like this before. Nearly autonomous forensic drones that could study a crime scene and then recreate it in VR was exactly the sort of thing she’d joined SHIELD to do. This was cutting-edge research.

That she needed a lunch break from.

“Fitz?” she said gently as she set his lunch bag on the counter beside where he was working. He had magnifiers on, and she didn’t want to startle him. “Time to eat.”

He set the soldering iron he’d been using down, pushed the glasses up, and stretched. “Thanks, Simmons. I’m starving.” He came to sit in the corner of the lab where she was working on the computer and using flight behavior of hummingbirds to redesign some of the drone’s programming.

She nodded and dug out an apple, taking a bite as she watched a video of a group of tiny birds take turns drinking from a flower.

“What about tomorrow?” Fitz asked as he chewed on his PB&J.

Jemma paused the video and turned her head. “Tomorrow? I was hoping you’d get one of the drones put back together enough that I could real-world test some of this programming.”

Fitz gave her a lopsided smile. “I guess that answers my question.”

Jemma stared at him, trying to parse out what he meant. Tomorrow was Saturday. It clicked. “Oh, you mean the other experiment.”

“Should we put that one on hiatus for two weeks until the visit is over?” Fitz’s face had gone blank, and it was infuriating to not be able to read him.

“Contrary to what you might think, I have considered possibilities during the last several days.”

He perked up. “Go on.”

“I’m tired of the whispering, and there are quite a few closets and empty rooms around here.”

Fitz bit his lip. “I still need more to figure this out.”

“I want to do something that if anyone here knew about it, that it would really give them something to talk about.” She pulled out her mobile, unlocked it, and sent him an email. ‘G= (risk of) Getting caught’.

Fitz looked at the message and chuckled. “Naughty, Simmons.”

“Isn’t it?”

He nodded, looking like he could jump her right then and there. Her pulse sped up. “I’ve been looking for places, and do you know the employee washroom at the end of the second-floor hallway, near the emergency exit?”

“I do, it’s fairly out of the way.”

She grinned. “That’s the point. And it heightens the risk over a place where we can lock the door.”

“I see. Will you be wearing a skirt?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. We know from before how to work each other up.” Fitz leaned forward and licked a smear of peanut butter off his thumb in a way that was anything but innocent. “I hope you’re ready for this.”

She loved him so much, and his willingness to take an idea and run with it was certainly part of that. Jemma put a hand on his knee. “More than you know.”

****

_Saturday_

Everything was going much better than she’d expected.

There were two drones in the air, a feat that’d required staying at the lab Friday night until two in the morning, then coming back by seven thirty this morning, but they were flying and scanning the room in tandem.

Fitz was grinning and laughing as he monitored them on his tablet.

Jemma was perched on a stool, her black pleated skirt that didn’t reach her knees covering as much as it could. It was very impractical lab dress, but they weren’t working with any chemicals, so she’d bent the rules, and she did have sensible flats on and her lab coat, even if it wasn’t buttoned up at the moment.

“Their behavior is really quite remarkable, it’s much better than the simulations had made it out to be.” She watched the drones simultaneously circle the lab’s sink, one mapping it in 3-D space while the other detected the make up of its metal surface.

“I’m impressed, Jemma.” Fitz smiled at her and his eyes lingered on how her blouse dipped down to show off her cleavage.

She shifted on the stool. It was nearing lunch, and Jemma had visited her office to pull off her knickers and take a few saucy photos to send Fitz. As he focused on coaxing the drones into landing on a work bench, she sent him the first one.

The whine from the drone’s motors died down and Fitz pulled out his mobile from his back pocket. He glanced at it and made a startled sound, spinning to face her. She was sitting primly on her stool, legs crossed, making a notation on a clipboard, though she could still see Fitz out of the corner of her eye.

She’d started with a tit shot, her blouse undone, and the cups of her bra pulled to the side.

“Yes?” she said as he continued to stare. He looked back down at his phone and typed something, cheeks pink.

Her phone chimed **. I want to suck on your nipples until they’re hard enough to cut glass and you’re moaning in that way that drives me wild.**

Her face warmed as she sent the second picture. She stood when the phone chimed. “In five minutes,” she breathed, heading for the door. Fitz absently nodded as he stared at the picture she sent, which was a snatch shot where sitting on the edge of her desk, skirt pulled up, and her fingers parting the lips of her pussy.

She glanced back in time to see Fitz adjusting the front of his trousers. She flew up the stairs and hurried to the washroom. There were two stalls, neither occupied, and a sink. Everything was an institutional grey.

Her phone beeped. **I’m going to ram my rock-hard cock into you and make you fucking come so hard you won’t know your name.**

Jemma gasped and put her hand over her mouth.

The door to the washroom opened and Fitz barreled in.

“That wasn’t five minutes,” she said as he put his arms around her and pushed her back into the corner stall. She grabbed the top of the stall door and pulled it shut, locking it as Fitz’s mouth descended to hers.

His hands were already under her skirt, grasping the bare skin of her arse and pulling her against him. She ground against his cock moaning. It seemed like ages since they’d touched and she was desperate. Artlessly, she tugged at his shirt, not having much of a plan beside getting him inside her as quickly as possible.

Fitz moaned against her lips and murmured her name, pushing her up against the side of the stall. Which was most likely not all that sanitary, but she didn’t care much as Fitz drove his tongue between her lips.

Jemma didn’t even care if the entire office walked into the bathroom at this point. She was blind with need, desperate to make love to him after a week being without.

Her fingers undid the buttons of her blouse, and as soon as the sides fell apart, Fitz ducked down and yanked the cup of her bra to the side. The warmth of his mouth on her breast was heavenly, and she gave a muffled cry as he nipped at her.

His hands were fumbling with his belt and the front of his trousers. He lowered his zip and Jemma yanked at the waistband, sending them around his knees. He pushed his shorts down and her fingers wrapped around his cock. It was hard and there was precum smearing over her palm. Jemma mewled and tugged at him.

Fitz broke the kiss, looking pained. “I fucking need you right now,” he said, voice hoarse.

“How?”

He glanced around. “Turn around and stick your arse out.”

Jemma did, bracing her hands against the stall. Fitz’s fingers trailed up her thighs and pushed her skirt out of the way.

His fingers brushed over her pussy. “I love how wet you get.”

“For you.”

Fitz grunted and swept the head of his cock over her folds. His other hand grabbed the top of the stall. He rubbed the head against her again, including her clit, sending a landside of desire and pleasure through her.

No one who walked in the loo would be in anyway confused about what she and Fitz were doing.

An extra jolt of pleasure at the idea that everyone would know he was fucking her made her moan.

Fitz’s breathing hitched, and he slid his cock inside her, pausing when he was as far in as possible.

Jemma bit her lip. She’d missed him. Her body had missed him. She tightened her muscles, doing her best to hug his cock and let it know how welcome it was.

Fitz groaned. “This is my favorite place,” he said, his hand caressing her arse.

“I hope you don’t mean the bathroom,” she teased.

His palm smacked her and then he was fucking her. Hard. Slamming into her, his hand on the top of the stall providing leverage.

Jemma squeaked as her body rocketed towards completion. “I’m going to come fast,” she gasped as she plunged her fingers between her legs to swipe at her distended clit.

“If you’re on my cock, you better.”

Jemma moaned and arched her back. She pressed hard on her clit and came, her breath leaving her.

“Bloody hell, Jems, you weren’t kidding.” Fitz sounded awed.

“Need you,” she murmured. “Don’t stop.” The snap of pleasure hadn’t been enough. She craved more.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

The stall door was rattling in its frame as Fitz fucked her with abandon. She pressed her fingers to her clit again, circling it. Another orgasm was hovering just out of reach as she rolled her hips and pressed back into Fitz’s thrusts. “Say something,” she panted.

“What?”

“Fitz! I don’t know, about what we’re doing, or how I feel to you.”

He groaned. “Christ. Anyone could walk in here and you want me to say how fucking your sopping wet pussy like an animal is the best thing I’ve ever done? Is that what you want? That I was rock hard at just at a picture of your tits because I haven’t fucked you in a week and am going to fill your cunt up with come until it’s dripping down your thighs?”

“Yes, Fitz, please!” She moaned, her knees nearly giving out as she came again. The pleasure was a sharp rapport through her, making her cry out.

“Fuck, Jems. Oh…fuck.”

Fitz grunted as he thrust raggedly into her, paused, then groaned as he slammed deeply one last time. She could feel the hard pulse of his cock. He made a soft sound and pulled himself out of her body, trailing his cock over the cheek of her ass. It twitched a few times, and she could feel come running down her rear. Fitz let go of the stall and used his hand to rub it into her skin, pulling down her skirt when he was done.

Jemma straightened up, still trying to catch her breath, and turned to face him. He looked both embarrassed and like he was going to cry. “Fitz?” He put his arms around her and pulled her into a hug.

“Sorry.”

“Whatever for? That was very nice.”

“That was…dirtier than I meant it to be.”

She ran her hands up and down his back. “I was the one who wanted to do it where we could be caught, which to be honest, was quite the thrill. Did you like it?” He nodded, holding her tighter. “That’s good. And I asked for you to talk dirty to me, and the bit at the end was hot. I’ll be thinking about you being on my arse all day now.”

“I should have asked.”

Taking a step back, Jemma looked up at him. “I liked it. Makes me feel like I’m yours.” To her delight, Fitz didn’t argue, but instead smiled shyly. She kissed him as she did up her shirt, then helped him straighten his jumper and tie. “Now run along and I’ll follow in a moment.”

“You’re amazing, Jemma.”

“I know, now go.”

After one more quick kiss, Fitz trotted out the door.

Jemma looked at herself in the mirror, she didn’t appear too much like she’d just been humped in a bathroom stall by her lab partner. Who was also her best friend…and the man she was head over heels in love with. She sighed at her reflection.

Fitz, in the middle of an orgasm, had thought to mark her as his in some tiny way. That had to mean something. And if they were both this desperate after a week of being close but not having sex, then simply going cold turkey at the end of the experiment would be impossible for either of them.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Fitz was nearly there, he’d see they were meant to build a family and grow old together, not just have amazing sex.

Turning the tap on, Jemma washed her hands under the warm water.

The door to the WC opening made her jump. Sherri walked in, narrowing her eyes at Jemma. “Hey,” Sherri said. Her mousy hair was pulled back in a tight bun that was entirely unflattering.

Jemma smiled. “Hello.” Her mind raced before she remembered that Sherri’s office was on the second floor, making it not weird that she’d use this restroom.

“I just passed Fitz. Please tell me you two don’t go to the bathroom together.”

Jemma kept her smile in place using sheer force of will. “I needed toilet paper, and I texted him to bring me some.”

Sherri lifted a brow. “Sure.” She entered the smaller stall and Jemma hastily shook the water off her hands, dried them, and left. Her heart was in her throat. Could Sherri tell what they’d just been doing? Did the room smell of sex? Or did Sherri just think they were some kind of weirdos who went to pee at the same time?

Jemma walked down the stairs, worried it was the latter.

****

_Sunday Evening_

The clock on the oven read 2:30 am. Jemma plopped in a chair and opened the bottle of water Fitz handed her. Roomie was docked in his station, sleeping and recharging like she and Fitz should be.

They had half the drones functioning, but there was only another seven days to get the other four working, the bugs ironed out, and make them presentation worthy.

She had no doubt they’d do it.

Fitz dropped into the other chair after putting a box of two-day-old cold pizza from the fridge on the table.

Jemma opened the lid and then closed it. “No.”

Fitz opened it again. “Oh, c’mon it’s not…” He stared at the pizza, then dropped the box lid. “They’d name a disease after us if we ate that.”

She nodded. “Let’s pick a tile and go to bed. I have to recalibrate the sniffer tomorrow.”

Fitz groaned. He stood, dumped the pizza box in the bin, and retrieved the Scrabble bag. Jemma sat back in her chair and reached for her mobile to set her alarm. It wasn’t in her pocket. That was odd, but she was so tired maybe she’d dropped it in her bag instead of putting it in its usual place. Wrestling the fastenings open, she searched through the pockets. It wasn’t there.

Alarm bells went off in her head. “Fitz, I can’t find my mobile. I can’t even remember the last time I had it.”

He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, frowning. “Um.” He scratched his chin.

“Maybe it’s in the car?”

Fitz held up a hand. “Wait, let’s not search the floorboard at nearly three am.”

“I need my phone.”

“Jemma, I’m so tired I think I’m going to sleep with my clothes on. Let me just do the find a phone thing.” He pulled his mobile out and tapped at the screen, holding it up after a moment. “It’s at work. We’ll get it tomorrow.”

Jemma rubbed her eyes. “Alright. Thank you. I think I might just lie down in what I have on too. But tile first.”

Fitz opened the bag open and pulled one out. He dropped both on the table. It was the letter: **F**.


	18. F

_Tuesday_

“I need your mobile,” Jemma said, holding her hand out.

Fitz sighed. She’d been using his mobile ever since she’d lost hers. He handed the phone over, and she didn’t say anything or even look at him, just unlocked it and pulled up the app she needed.

He turned back to the drone he was assembling, squatting down to peer at the fit of the innards. He was certain he had it right.

Jemma was muttering to herself.

“We’ll find your mobile,” he said. “It’s still here, somewhere.”

They’d been asking around, but nobody had seen it, even though the find-a-phone feature on his mobile showed it to be in the building. The rubbish had been hauled off on Monday, so that had been ruled out. The bloody thing must have simply slipped down behind a cabinet somewhere or the like, and they didn’t have enough time to work out where it was at the moment.

Jemma groaned. “Yes, well, good, but it won’t be soon enough. I’m going to miss my baking podcast episode for the week.”

Fitz looked askew at her. “Baking?”

“I never have time to do it, but I would like to start.”

“My stomach is all for that, and this whole thing is almost over Jemma. After next week, when the bigwigs show, we’ll slow down and do some rose smelling, alright?” He poked a screwdriver into the drone’s parts and pushed aside some wiring to inspect the soldering on its main control chip.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He squinted at the chip. It seemed okay. “Huh?” he replied, distracted.

“You always seem to know just the right thing to say.”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Sometimes.”

“Always.”

****

_Friday_

Still no mobile, which was making Jemma cranky. It would have been worse if they’d had time to breathe outside of their project.

Fitz had all eight drones up and running. They were working on sorting out the last part of the programming now that Jemma had shaken a specialized three screen tablet out of Richard.

As they ate lunch in Jemma’s office, Fitz worked on debugging code, while Jemma refined detection thresholds for one of the sensors.

“Am I going to get an email?” Jemma said as she finished her yogurt.

“About?” He couldn’t remember if he’d had something to send her.

“Tomorrow?”

Fitz looked up at her. It hit him. “Shite, I haven’t thought about that at all. F…F…would you accept fuck?”

Jemma’s brow raised. “No.”

“Um—” Crap. “Fitz?”

“You are not a sex act.”

He rubbed his lips with one hand. “Are you sure?”

“Fairly certain, yes.”

“I ran out of ideas at fuck.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Might I remind you that you still have a mobile you can research on.”

“We’ll find yours, as soon as we have time, we’ll turn this place upside down.”

Jemma nodded, returning her gaze to her laptop. There wasn’t much work-related stuff on their mobiles, that was on their laptops. The mobiles were their personal lives, and like him, he knew she’d have everything encrypted and password protected. It wouldn’t be easy to crack, and if someone did they’d find some pictures, books, podcasts, and shows Jemma liked, the dirty stuff he’d sent her or that she’d made for him, and a bunch of apps that were work specific but that didn’t contain data. He really didn’t relish the idea of someone finding out about his, uh, experiments with Jemma, but at least they wouldn’t find any classified SHIELD data. If that leaked, they’d be looking for new jobs.

It all amounted to the mobile not being a priority. When they called now, it went straight to voice mail, which meant the battery was dead, and he’d gotten a frantic text from Jemma’s mother asking why she wasn’t answering.

Fitz picked up his own mobile and opened the web browser to Google. A search left him with not a lot of plausible options. Finger fuck? Facial? The latter had appeal, though with all the stress they were under asking Jemma to let him cream on her face probably wasn’t a great idea. Maybe he could combine the two and get her off before she blew him.

He rubbed at his forehead.

Fisting seemed rather intense and probably not the sort of thing either of them was up for at the moment though he did have some questions about fitting an entire hand up there. Either up-theres. Jemma was typing on her computer so he risked looking at where his hand was below the desk as he made the shape the web page suggested. It seemed like a lot.

“What are you thinking?” Jemma asked.

“Uh.” His head snapped up. “Still looking.”

Foreplay was too simple, plus they had that down to an art.

Frottage gave him pause. Dry humping was one of those things his mates had talked about back before any of them had real sexual experience. It’d always sounded sexy, getting so carried away you just rubbed against each other with clothes on until you came. And like getting a hand job in a car, it was something he’d certainly missed out on.

Fitz set his mobile down. “What about frottage?”

Jemma looked at him quizzically. “You realize we’ve been having penetrative sex frequently?”

“I have noticed,” he said dryly.

“And you want to go back to humping with our clothes on?”

“I thought you liked me having my clothes on. And you can wear a skirt again and rub your crotch up against the front of my trousers.” That sounded delightful.

Jemma looked unconvinced. “Is it going to be enough? A quick hump at lunch tomorrow?”

“I sure it will be.”

She shrugged. “I guess we can try.”

“I’ll show you try.”

****

_Saturday_

Fitz collapsed into a chair in the breakroom. Jemma was somewhere, doing something, and he couldn’t message her because of her missing mobile. When they found it, he was going to get inside it and put in a tracker and figure how to extend the battery life so it would last weeks instead of days.

He rubbed his face.

God, he was tired.

There was the sound of footsteps, and Fitz looked up to find Milton entering the room.

“Hey,” Fitz said.

Milton waved, rummaged in his locker, then walked over to sit down on the breakroom couch, which was near where Fitz was sitting. Milton held out a can of Red Bull. “Want one? You look like you need it.” Milton had another in his hand.

Fitz made a face.

“I promise I won’t tell Jemma.”

Fitz snorted and grabbed the can, popping it open. The stuff tasted disgusting, but he needed the caffeine. “How’s your department doing?” Fitz asked to be polite.

Milton sighed. “It’s fine. I think. Maybe. Hell if I know.” Fitz chuckled. Milton was much more fun when he had nothing to do with Jemma. “How are you and Jemma doing?”

Fitz paused with the can halfway to his mouth, then realized Milton was just asking about their projects. “We’ll be ready.” He took a drink. “Though these last two weeks haven’t been thrilling.” He sipped again. “We got a Roomba. Jemma named it.”

“That sounds like Jemma.” Milton ran a hand through his hair. “It’s good she has you, y’know?”

Fitz snorted. “I don’t think she needs anyone.” Jemma’s soft cries from the last time they’d had sex played through his mind, but he wasn’t sure if that counted, and it certainly something he wasn’t going to talk to Milton about.

“No, I’m serious.” Milton took a drink. “Jemma’s different, her mind is moving faster than the speed of light, and I think you’re the only person that remotely can keep up.”

“She’s very logical.” Everything Jemma said always made sense.

Milton laughed. “If you can follow her train of thought, which you can, so she just seems normal to you. It’s not so easy for the rest of us, plus you have the benefit of her being focused on you.” Fitz frowned. “Dude, she’s really into you,” Milton insisted.

“If you say so.”

“Okay, here’s a story. We were on my couch, and I was thinking, damn, Jemma looks gorgeous. We should make out.”

Fitz thought: damn, I’d like to strangle you.

Milton ran his finger around the rim of his can as he continued. “She’s so beautiful, with an amazing intellect that makes her more interesting than almost anyone I’ve ever met.” Fitz imagined squeezing Milton’s neck harder. “I moved over beside her and put a hand on her knee, leaning close to kiss her neck.”

Fitz tilted his head back and guzzled the rest of the Red Bull. Fuck. He knew how that would play out, with Jemma not quite admitting how much she wanted to be touched, but slowly shifting towards Milton, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she not-quite smiled and her lids lowered. Her breathing would hitch, and she’d wiggle as her nipples hardened.

“Jemma turns towards me,” Milton said, and Fitz crushed the empty can in his hands, making Milton jump. He frowned. “Um, anyway, I’m thinking I’m about to get laid by this gorgeous woman, and she says to me: ‘What do you think Fitz would like for Christmas?’.”

Fitz blinked. “What?”

Milton slumped. “Here I was thinking we were getting hot and heavy, but Jemma hadn’t even registered my presence because she was thinking about you.” Milton shook his head. “Are you boning her yet?”

Fitz rocketed to his feet. “She’s…Jems is my best friend. Even if I was, why the hell would I say anything to you about it?” He walked over, pitched the can into the bin, and spun around to face Milton.

“I was just asking,” Milton said, holding up a hand. “No need for pistols at dawn.”

“You have no right to say anything about her now. She’s barely even your work colleague.”

“Okay, man. Okay. I’m sorry. Don’t get your panties in a wad.”

Fitz glared at Milton, then walked out of the breakroom. Jemma wasn’t in the lab, so he turned and went to their offices. Jemma was just coming out of her door, folders in her hand.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

He didn’t say anything but grabbed her shoulders and propelled her back into her office. Fitz knew he was being a little, maybe a lot, irrational, and that he didn’t have any reason to be jealous because the entire point of Milton’s story was that Jemma had been thinking about Fitz, but everything wasn’t going to feel right until he was touching her.

Inside, she pulled the door closed. “Fitz—” He kissed her and pushed her against it. His mouth was desperate, and his hands dragged down her sides, finding the fabric of her skirt and bunching it up.

Jemma’s lips were pliant, and she moaned.

The sound went straight to his cock, which had already been interested in what was going on, and the front of his trousers got much tighter as it filled.

Jemma was all breathy moans and tiny whimpers. She wrapped a leg around his waist, and he put a hand under her knee, pulling it higher and grinding against her. Her hips rolled in response, and she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, nibbling at it as they humped against her office door.

“Jemma,” he gasped. Her head fell back with a thump he hoped nobody was walking by to hear. “Are you wet for me? Is your cunt wet and ready?”

“Yes.” It was a tiny sound, punctuated by a moan.

Jemma’s hands slid down his back and grabbed his arse while she rubbed herself against him. “That’s it, Jemma, I’m all yours, use me to come. I’m fucking aching I’m so hard wanting to please you.”

Her fingers dug in, and he put a hand on her jumper, over her breast, kneading. She mewled and he made a guess where her nipple was, pinching it between his fingers.

“Oh, Fitz, yes.” Her voice was low and hoarse, and he lifted his head to look at her. Jemma’s eyes were closed, and her pink lips were wet and swollen from kisses. She was arching into his touch, and lower down her skirt was up above her waist, and he could see the top of the damp crotch of her knickers as she undulated rapidly against the bulge in his trousers.

It felt as good as it looked.

“Jemma…Jemma, come for me, right over my cock, soak it, and tell me who it is you’re coming for.”

Shite, probably shouldn’t have said that. He sounded like the greedy bastard he was.

Jemma moaned and covered the hand he had on her breast with her own. She guided it up to her neck, and he loosely wrapped his fingers around her throat.  It felt possessive, but she’d wanted him there. Which made it confusing and he was so desperate to get off he didn’t want to spend a lot of time on thinking about it, so he stroked her neck with his thumb and braced his other hand against the door so he could grind harder against her.

“Oh,” Jemma said, her body tensing.

“Come on, just a bit more, Jems, get what you need.”

Her fingers gripped the front of his cardigan, tugging at him. “Fitz,” she moaned. “Fitz, Fitz—” She broke off and exhaled sharply as her body shuddered.

“That’s it. Fucking beautiful.”

She teetered as her climax left her, and Fitz held her upright with his hands on her hips. He pushed his cock against her but as amazing as it felt, he didn’t think he was going to come like this. Which seemed impossible because before they’d started this whole experiment, he probably could have come in his pants from Jemma staring at his crotch too long.

Not that it mattered if he got off or not. “What another?” he asked in her ear.

“Oh, yes…more.”

His trailed his hand down from her hip to her pussy, pressing at the wet crotch. “Are these going to end up in my pocket too?” he said. “Where I can run my fingers over them all day so that every time I bring them to my face, I can smell your honey?”

She whimpered, and he pushed the bit of fabric to the side, gliding his finger through her slick lips to circle her clit. I was swollen and needy, and he smiled as he glided his fingers over it.

Jemma’s eye opened. “Fitz, what about you?”

“Huh?” He continued rubbing.

“Aren’t you going to…” She gestured vaguely at their groins.

He shook his head. “Angle’s not working, fabric feels rough, I don’t think I’m going to get off, but I don’t mind helping you.”

“Oh, no, no, no…dammit, I told you this was a bad idea.”

Fitz paused. “Did you just say I told you so?”

“Yes.” She unwrapped her leg from around him and gave him a little shove back. “Now undo your trousers and push them down, then sit in the chair.”

He hesitated for a split-second, but Jemma tugged her knickers off, and he gave up pretending he wanted to be anywhere but deep inside her. He got the button and zip of his trousers loosened and dropped them around his knees, then waddled over to the ugly plastic chair with uneven legs that was behind her desk and sat in it. The seat was rough and cold against his arse, but he wasn’t about to complain.

Instead, he wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked as Jemma pulled her jumper off and undid the front of her blouse. She took a pencil from the cup on her desk and somehow swirled her hair into a kind of bun and stuck the pencil through to hold it in place. His hips jerked, and he groaned, rubbing faster.

“Now, Mr. Fitz, I think you should stop touching yourself.” She looked sternly down her nose at him.

His hand dropped to his sides. “Yes, professor.” His cock rested on his belly as he slumped back, precum leaking from the tip.

Jemma grinned. She stood with her legs on either side of his knees and pulled her skirt up until he could see her smooth pussy. “Is this what you want, Mr. Fitz?”

“Yes, professor.”

“And where would you like it?”

“Around my cock, please.”

She tilted his head. “Only if you say you’re sorry and that you were wrong and I was right.”

“I’m sorry, I was very wrong, Jemma, and you were completely right that I would need to fuck your cunt.” He lifted his eyes to her face. “Please.”

Jemma grinned. “Since you asked so nicely, I suppose I’ll allow it.”

She sank down, grabbed his cock to position it at her opening, and continued. Sliding into her felt like heaven. Her feet were still on the floor as, but she was mostly sitting on his thighs with her hands on his shoulders and saucy look in her eyes. She rolled her hips, grinding her clit against him.

Fitz couldn’t not touch her. He grabbed both cheeks of her ass, kneading. “Are you going to come again, professor?”

“Yes.” Her eyes drifted closed, and she leaned in to kiss him as she rode him.

Pressure and pleasure built in his groin as her pussy stroked up and down his cock. Her walls were cinching down, and from her muffled symphony of mewls and cries, he knew she was close.

Her legs tensed. “Fitz,” she murmured as her breath left her and she curled tight against him while her orgasm played out.

He nuzzled against her neck. “My sweet Jemma,” he whispered, making the chair rock dangerously as he thrust. “You’re everything. Everything.” Groaning, his legs straightened as his sac drew tight against him. He thrust twice more before he came. His prick was like a roman candle as he shot his release into her, and Jemma held him tight, hugging his shoulders.

He didn’t want to let go when she finally pushed herself upright. Her eyes looked damp, and she cupped his cheek. “We have to go back to work.”

“Sorry.”

She kissed him. “Don’t be. This was lovely. I don’t know what set you off, but I certainly benefited from it.”

Fitz shook his head. “It was silly. I was talking to Milton, and he said something to me about trying to make out with you, but then you asked him about buying me a Christmas present? My take away was more the mental picture of you…with him.”

She wrinkled her nose, but then a smile spilled happiness about her face, and she gently squeezed his cock, which was still inside her. “You got jealous!”

He caressed her back. “I suppose.” He was chuffed at how pleased she seemed about it.

“Well, don’t worry, I’m all yours.” Jemma kissed his forehead and stood, grabbing tissues to wipe her thighs. He rose and hauled his trousers back up. His heart was doing funny things in his chest because of her words. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her but now was not the time. Not when they were wrapping up a massive project that their career could be advanced on. If he was wrong and pushed Jemma past where she was comfortable, then their work would suffer for it.

She would never forgive him.

He caught her elbow as she finished straightening her skirt after sliding a new pair of knickers on. “I’m all yours too.” That would have to do for now.

Jemma smiled and kissed his cheek. “Good.”

Good? “Jemma—”

He was interrupted as there was a knock on the door. They jumped apart as the handle turned and Trevor looked in.

Fitz’s stomach flipped, and he shared a glance at Jemma, whose cheeks were pink. They hadn’t locked the door. They’d been fucking like bunnies without having bothered to check. It was almost like they wanted to be caught.

“Hey,” Trevor said, holding out something in his hand. “I found this. It was in the breakroom between the wall and the couch.”

Jemma squealed. “My mobile!” She snatched it out of Trevor’s fingers and hugged it to her chest. “Thank you!”

“Thanks,” Fitz said. “She’s been bloody annoying without it all week.”

“I have not.”

“You’ve been hijacking mine every two seconds.”

“Uh,” Trevor said. “I’m just going to go back and eat my lunch.”

Fitz waved a hand at him, and he left. “Now, you’re going to give me that phone next week, and I’m installing a better locator and beefing up the battery.”

“You can pry it out of my cold, dead hands.” She grabbed her charger and happily trotted down the hallway towards their lab.

Fitz shook his head. It was a good thing he loved her.

****

_Sunday Morning, very, very early_

Fitz stared out the car’s windscreen at the red traffic light. There was rain misting down, and they seemed to be the only people on the road. Jemma was dozing beside him in the passenger seat.

The drones were complete. Each one uniform looking, and able to carry out their task while coordinating with the other seven. It was groundbreaking work. Jemma was extremely proud of what she’d done with the sensors and AI, either which would have been a doctorate level project in and of itself, and Fitz believed she had every right to be.

He was certain what he’d done was revolutionary. Not that anyone besides Jemma would really understand that, but she would be enough, like always.

At the flat, he parked the car and went around to open her door. He wished he could pick her up and carry her up the stairs, but that wasn’t happening. “Jemma?” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She stirred. “Fitz?”

“We’re home, time for bed. Up you go.”

He undid her belt and helped her stand. She had her mobile clutched in her hand, which made him smile. There would be no losing it again anytime soon.

Inside, he left the lights off, steered Jemma around Roomie who was doing a lap in the living room and led her to his room. He pulled off her jumper, and she dropped her skirt and undid her blouse. In just her bra and knickers she sat lay down on the bed. With an adorable little yawn, she rolled over on her belly.

“Get the scrabble bag,” she said.

Fitz dropped his jumper on the floor and loosened his tie. “What?”

“I want to celebrate.”

“If you say so.” He trudged out to the kitchen and brought back the bag. Sitting on the side of the bed, he patted Jemma’s bum. “Here you go.”

She held her hand out, and he dropped the bag beside it before returning to petting her rear. Jemma undid the top and reached her hand inside. “I hope it’s the blank one.”

“Have an idea what you want, do you?”

“Mmm, I think it would be nice to have it be completely up to me to decide what we did.”

Fitz bent down and kissed the smooth skin of her arse. “You do have brilliant ideas.”

“Oh, darn,” she said, frowning at the tile she’d pulled.

“What is it?”

Jemma dropped her head on the pillow and reached back, placing the tile on the swell of her rear. It was the letter: **A**.


	19. A

_Monday_

Jemma was in a pristine outfit, with her hair neatly pinned up. Her slacks were pressed, and her blouse wrinkle free. Fitz was in the best suit he owned, with a dark red shirt she liked on him and a black tie.

On her feet were pumps. She never wore pumps to work.

They were standing in their lab and waiting on Director Fury and Maria Hill to show. The entire office was in a tizzy. This wasn’t just some bigwig visit. It was _the_ bigwigs.

Jemma kept telling herself to breathe. The drones were amazing, she had copies of a one-page report about them that listed all the innovations she and Fitz had come up with to make them work, and the lab was spotless. They were ready. The drones were prepped in their case and already connected to the tablet.

“We’ve got this,” Fitz said in her ear as footsteps approached. She smiled, at him, and then at their guests.

“So you’re Fitz-Simmons?” Fury asked, striding into the room.

“Yes, I’m Simmons,” Jemma said. “And he’s Fitz.”

“He got a voice?”

“Good morning, sir,” Fitz said stiffly.

“Ain’t nothing good about it. I need my science teams coming up with ways to save lives, not just handing me reports and blabbing nonsense.”

“Nick,” Agent Hill said. She smiled while Richard stood in the doorway behind her and glared. “I’m Maria, and I’m sure you recognize Directory Fury.” He nodded at them. “We’ve been told you’re the stars, and your Academy records are astounding. I’ve seen your names before.”

Jemma was elated. Maria Hill knew who she was.

Fury came to stand beside Agent Hill. “Let’s see what you got.”

Fitz nodded and picked up the control tablet while Jemma opened the drone’s case.

“We were inspired by those television shows where there’s a forensic scene, but everyone is always trampling over the evidence, then extrapolated that to create drones that can not only do forensics work but operate in dangerous conditions without risking personnel.”

The eight drones whirred to life and lifted out of the case one by one, orientated themselves, and began scanning and cataloging the room.

“They map out everything,” Fitz said. “And are able to recreate any room as a three-dimensional model, including spaces not visible to the eye, like cabinet interiors.”

“They’re quiet,” Jemma smiled as one stopped to scan her face. “And most of their functions are automated once they are given initial mission parameters.”

“I have some agents that aren’t that smart,” Fury said, his eyes on the drones. Maria sighed.

“We made them uniform.” Fitz directed one to hover in front of Fury. “That way if it’s spotted, no one will know if it’s sniffing for weapons or making a map.”

Fury tilted his head to the side as he studied the machine. “Richard!” he barked, making everyone, except Agent Hill, jump.

“Yes?” Richard said.

“These two are amazing. Do you know how many lives this will save? Get them working on something else ASAP.”

Jemma knew she was beaming. “The work is nothing short of revolutionary,” she said. “We designed and crafted them from the ground up.”

“Excellent work.” Agent Hill took out her mobile and frowned at the screen. “I can’t wait to see them in the field.” Her frown deepened. “Sorry, I have to take this.” She walked out of the room. “Phil? What now?”

Fitz was landing the drones back on the table, and Jemma used her laptop to bring up the completed scans on the largest monitor they had. She overlapped them, then peeled away layers and highlighted things as Fury watched, arms crossed.

“This is what we wanted to see today. Not endless reports. Results.” Fury fixed his eye on Jemma and Fitz. “Anything you two need to help with your work?”

Beside her, she could feel Fitz almost vibrating with excitement. “Jemma, please?” he said in a low voice. She knew exactly what he wanted, and had been wanting since they’d left the academy and been assigned to Sci-Ops in Boston.

“Fitz and I would very much appreciate a holoengineering table,” she said and watched in glee as Richard’s mouth fell open.

Fury waved a hand. “Consider it done.”

“T-t-thank you,” Fitz stuttered.

Jemma could hardly believe it. Now everyone in the office was going to be really jealous of them. She put a hand on Fitz’s arm to steady herself. Directory Fury had seen how good their work was. Maybe there’d be a promotion soon for her and Fitz. Maybe they’d be transferred to the Hub. As long as she was with Fitz, their exact location wasn’t that important.

Fury nodded. “Glad you guys are on our team.” He walked out of the room in a swirl of black leather. His coat looked too hot for the temperature outside, but Jemma supposed he wore it to be cool, not…er, cool.

“Hey, Dick,” they heard Fury’s voice as it echoed back down the hall. “Are those two kids fucking?”

“Er, no idea.”

“I think they’re fucking.”

Jemma looked at Fitz, who shrugged. “He’s not Director for nothing,” Fitz said in a low voice.

She shook her head. “You have a point.”

Fitz stared out the door, then wrapped her in a hug that made her squeal. “A holotable!”

****

_Tuesday_

Jemma opened an eye, fixing it on the alarm clock. Oh, good, she still had at least thirty minutes. She was on her side, Fitz smushed up behind her with his leg over hers. He snuffled, mumbled something, and then pushed his hips forward. His very erect cock pressed against her ass.

Well.

Heat bloomed in her belly. She pretended she was going to go back asleep for a minute, but then her Fitz-blanket thrust against her again, and she had to acknowledge she was turned on. Both she and Fitz had collapsed after getting home last night, and after a simple supper, they’d gone to sleep early.

Which meant she wasn’t tired now.

“Fitz,” Jemma hissed, rubbing her rear against his cock.

He made a sleepy noise.

Sighing, she wiggled her knickers down and off her legs, which wasn’t all that easy with Fitz partly on top of her. Now naked from the waist down, she twisted slightly and bit at his lower lip. His brow furrowed, then his eyes blinked open. “Jems?”

“Fitz.” She wiggled her hips.

“Shite!” He didn’t move away from her though, and she settled her head on her pillow and directed his hand to her breast. He cupped her tit and gently squeezed. “Do we have time?”

“No, I’m waking you up after removing my knickers just to tease you.”

“Fuck you then.” He yawned and kept playing with her boob.

“That’s the idea.” She reached back, found the flap of his boxers, and wiggled her fingers in to stroke his cock. The heat in her body was turned up to the high setting as she pumped his shaft. He was hard, and there was already precum beading at the tip. Jemma pulled his cock out, and bent her knee up, aiming him for her pussy.

Fitz grunted and shifted, pushing into her. She let go of him and switched to petting her clit. His thrusts were shallow, but judging from the sounds he was making, he was enjoying himself.

Her body tightened, and her orgasm was soft and warm as it broke over her. Fitz pressed kisses to the back of her neck and nuzzled behind her ear.

Jemma kept her fingers moving, and quickly came again, her pussy pulsing gently around Fitz’s cock. The afterglow was very, er, glow-y, and she felt like she should be lighting up the room.

Fitz’s thrusts became more determined. He mouthed her shoulder, his teeth grazing her as he climaxed. He twitched and groaned through his orgasm, and as soon as he was done, she wiggled off his cock and turned over to face him, pressing her forehead against his and willing all the love she felt to suffuse him.

He cupped her cheek. “Jemma, I…you’re very special to me.” His voice was hoarse, and she smiled gently. He would get it any day now.

She kissed the end of his nose. “You’re very special to me too.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in the start of a smile, but it turned into a pout as their alarm went off.

“Do we have to?” he asked, flinging himself dramatically onto his back as she sat up and clicked the light on. From the living room, there was the sound of Roomie as he woke up too and got to work.

“Unfortunately, yes,” she said.

“I protest.”

Jemma patted his leg. “Me too.”

****

_Tuesday Night_

Jemma reached the door to their flat first, and grabbed the small package there, shoving it into her lunch bag before Fitz appeared at the top of the stairs.

After dinner, which was tacos because Fitz had insisted, he settled down on the couch to play online with his friends, and she took the opportunity to open the box. The anal plug was not as intimidating as she’d been expecting, and with the special lube, she’d ordered she was able to slide it in easily enough.

The feeling was different, but not unpleasant, and she pulled her pajama bottoms on and grabbed the latest issue of her favorite journal to read while curled up beside Fitz. He was laughing and yelling at Cheds as they smashed their competition, and she had to keep biting her lip to keep from grinning at how naughty she felt. Fitz was going to be so surprised.

****

_Friday_

Jemma stared at the petri dish she was holding. It was cold. Or room temperature, to be more exact, but cold enough that her long-term experiment was ruined. Again. Along with other projects that’d been housed in the warmer. She’d come in that morning to find it unplugged, and her heart had sunk.

It was probably just an accident by someone cleaning, but it still made her sad.

She spent the rest of the morning cleaning out everything from inside it, then the shelves and walls themselves.

Fitz kept coming over and making sympathetic noises and offering to help. She didn’t take him up on it until the warmer was spotless and she wanted him to inspect the wiring. Together they pulled it out from the wall, and he took off the back housing.

Molly stopped by and asked if they wanted to go to lunch with her, Trevor, and Milton, but Jemma and Fitz both declined. As Fitz worked, Jemma retrieved their lunch bags. With no biological experiments happening until after the weekend, she didn’t feel that bad about eating in the lab.

“Should I email you?” she asked partway through lunch as Fitz poked at the wiring with a multimeter in one hand and his sandwich in the other. He was chewing thoughtfully but stopped to look up at her from where he was sitting on the floor.

“Nah, just tell me.”

“Okay.” She looked around, making sure Sherri or someone wasn’t lurking, then leaned towards Fitz. “A is anal sex.”

Fitz nearly dropped his sandwich. “What?”

She grinned.

His nose wrinkled up. “Really?”

“I thought you’d be pleased.” Or at least look like he didn’t hate the idea. She knew Fitz could get a little squeamish, but hadn’t imagined that applying to her body.

“Why would you think that?” He set down the multimeter and sandwich and rubbed his face. “That’s not something I’ve ever had the desire to do.”

“Oh.” She pressed her lips together. Didn’t he want to even try? “Um, are you vetoing it?”

“I need to think about it more.” He hunched over and went back to fussing with the warmer. The conversation seemed to be over. Jemma stared at his knee. She felt like he’d…rejected her. Without any real discussion. She stood and went to one of the computers to open up a word document and start on the reports about the ruined experiments. It seemed nothing was going her way today.

****

_Friday Night_

Following their Chinese takeaway dinner, Jemma retreated to her room, ostensibly to work on a new research proposal since she didn’t think Richard would let her restart the long term one for the third time.

Still feeling a bit off from Fitz not giving her choice a chance, she pushed her knickers down and inserted the anal plug anyway, determined to continue working on becoming more comfortable with the entire concept, even if her partner wasn’t on board. There was no reason to deny herself just because Fitz found anal play icky.

It was warm in her room, and she opted for sleep shorts instead of pajama bottoms and ditched her bra for a tank top. Sitting in her desk chair, she put her hair up, then took a brand new yellow legal pad in hand with a fresh pencil.

She had so many ideas but wanted to salvage what parts of her original project she could.

Fifteen minutes and three lists later, there was a knock on her door. “Come in,” she called.

Fitz, in his pajama pants and an old t-shirt, peeked in, then sighed and stepped into the room.

“Are you angry with me?” he asked, shoving his fists into his pockets.

Jemma sighed. “I should lie and say no, but I am a little…I suppose angry is the word.”

“Sorry,” Fitz said.

“I don’t even think it’s because you wanted to veto. I think it’s because you just dismissed my idea as if we couldn’t even discuss it.”

“We were at work!”

“I know. But that doesn’t—”

He scowled and interrupted. “I was not going to talk about fucking you in the arse at work.” Her mouth fell open. “And that’s why I’m here now. To talk, if you’re not going to jump down my throat.”

“Sorry.” She dropped the pad on her desk and spun the chair to face him. “Go ahead.”

Fitz went to sit on the side of her bed and rubbed a temple. “Jemma, this isn’t something I’ve thought about much. I tried looking up a couple of videos, and they really didn’t do much for me. I’m not exactly opposed to trying, but maybe I need to hear from you why you’re interested.”

“That’s very reasonable.”

“Thank you, and I don’t want to fight if I end up not wanting to do it anyway. It’s nothing to do with you. I’m sure your arse is very nice.” The tips of his ears went pink.

She laughed. “No, I won’t get upset. That wouldn’t be fair. It’s okay to have limits.” He nodded. “Thank you for listening to me.”

“It’s not a hardship.”

Jemma smiled and shifted her rear as she clenched the muscles, the butt plug sending little fissions of desire through her. “I think what really got me interested in doing this with you is that I’ve not had anal sex with a partner.”

“This experiment is to help us feel more comfortable with a variety of sex acts.”

She frowned at his suddenly carefully controlled expression. “Well, yes, but I’m not interested in simply learning the act, it’s because it would be a first and that first would be with you.”

“Oh.” There was a lot of emotion in that one syllable, even if his face remained infuriatingly blank. “I see.”

“And I’m not asking you to perform miracles,” she continued. “I’ve been preparing all week.”

“You’ve what?”

“I bought a toy and lube specifically meant for anal use, and I took the box of condoms from your room and put them in here.”

“I didn’t notice they were gone.” He looked sheepish but was also sneaking glances at her in a way she knew meant he was intrigued. She waited for him to work out what he wanted to ask. “So…I know you excel at preparation. How has that been going?” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Not bad. I have experimented with my dildo before and found it enjoyable, but I thought I needed more, so I’ve been wearing an anal plug. I actually have it in right now.”

“Excuse me?” His hand dropped down to smack his thigh.

“Fitz,” she laughed. “It’s not a big deal. Though I feel like I should apologize that it’s not an exciting one, just plain black rubber, no fancy jewels or anything.”

“There are ones with jewels?”

She snorted. “I think they’re weird. Like covering up that very natural part of the body and pretending it’s a pretty diamond or something instead.”

Fitz blinked, looking bewildered.

“So where are we at regarding anal sex? I don’t have another a word ready so will need time to think of something if you’re vetoing.”

“Can I see?”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m still considering, and I’d like to see the plug, in you, if you don’t mind, and the lube.”

“Fair.” She went to her drawer and took out the lube and the condoms, setting them both down on the bed beside him.

“Odd bottle shape,” he said as he picked it up to lube to examine it. He popped the top, sniffed, and stuck a finger in, pulling it back out to rub against his thumb.

Jemma pushed her shorts down, walked over to stand in front of Fitz, then turned so her back was to him. She bent over.

Fitz’s fingers caressed the curve of her ass. “Looks different than I was expecting.”

“Told you it’s just a basic one.”

“The base is a lot more square than I was imagining. You can walk around with this thing in there?”

She laughed. “Yes, Fitz. I certainly know it’s there, but it doesn’t hinder me. I was wearing it for the first time Tuesday night while we were on the couch.”

“Christ, Jemma!”

She bit her lip. He sounded so incensed. Fitz traced the outline of the base, then pushed at it, making her gasp and squirm.

“That made you feel good?” He sounded surprised.

“Yes, it’s not the same as vaginal penetration, but I do enjoy it.”

He pushed again, and she moaned. “You sure?”

“Yes!”

He pulled at it, removing it from her arse and she whimpered.

“You want it back in?” His voice was rough, and Jemma wanted to cheer. Fitz had just figured out she was into it, which had made him into it. She didn’t even care it wasn’t Saturday.

“Yes, please.”

He rubbed the end against her anus. “You want me to shove this back in your hole, or fill it up with my cock?”

“Cock.” Like she had to think about it.

“Yeah? Want to get fucked in the arse? You’re bent over and shoving your pussy in my face, and I can see you creaming from the thought of having a big, hard cock up your rear. Naughty, Jemma.”

She yanked her shirt off, and Fitz grabbed her hips, pulling her a step back to kiss her arse cheek. It took a lot of will for her to stand up and turn around to face him. “Fitz, I need to know you’re sure about this.”

He was flushed and rubbing at his erection through his pajama pants. “Honestly, I wasn’t until I pulled that plug out of you and got jealous it was somewhere I wasn’t.” He brow furrowed and he looked puzzled like he couldn’t quite understand himself.

“Remember to stop me if you get uncomfortable with what we’re doing.” He nodded. “And I think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, you being jealous of a butt plug.”

Fitz flushed. “How do you want to do this?”

“Sit in the middle of the bed.”

He did as she asked, his legs stretched out. After a second, he took his shirt off and pushed his pajamas down and off. Jemma cupped her breasts, and she kneeled on the bed. Moving to him, she straddled his thighs and kissed him while he grabbed her arse.

All the problems from the week melted away, and she found she didn’t care about anything but being with him. “We don’t have to,” she said, raining kisses on the face she loved.

Fitz pulled back and looked cross. “Now I want to.”

Jemma laughed and kissed his cheek. “Alright. Let me get you ready.”

He looked down. “How much more ready do you want me to be?”

“The condom and lube.”

“Right. Let’s do that.” But he kissed her again, and Jemma got lost in his taste, the slide of their lips, and the way his tongue flicked over hers. She was panting when they finally broke the kiss, and nearly went back in for before remembering what she was supposed to be doing.

She had to scramble off him to get the supplies, then shuffled back over on her knees. She bent over, sucking his prick into his mouth and making him moan. Taking her time, she licked him root to tip, then kissed the head before tearing open the condom and rolling it on. She squeezed the lube into her hand and slicked up his shaft while lust and anticipation had her toes curling.

“You’re all ready,” she purred.

“To go where no man has gone before?”

“You did not just say that, Fitz!” She giggled, then laughed loudly, and he did too. “Okay, fine. And don’t worry, it’s bigger on the inside.”

“Jemma!”

She laughed again and straddled him once more, this time facing away. The hop back to position herself was awkward, but Fitz made an appreciative noise so she couldn’t have looked as silly as she felt. He dumped more lube on her anus, then used a hand on her hip to guide her arse to the right spot. The head of his cock pressed against her.

Jemma consciously relaxed, letting go of any last bits of tension.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Please.”

There was pressure against her anus, and she sank her hips down as he slid inside her. His cock was larger than the plug, and she hissed at the initial stretch.

Fitz froze. “Uh, Jemma?”

“It’s okay,” she panted. “Just getting used to it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” She looked over her shoulder to find him wearing a terrified expression.

“You aren’t.” She pushed down and took him the rest of the way in. “I do feel very full. Your cock seems positively enormous like this.”

Fitz made a garbled sound, and she patted his leg.

Experimentally, she raised and lowered herself an inch. With the lube, his cock glided easily, and he moaned.

“Is it okay for you?” she asked.

“Different, good, good-different. You?”

“I’m excellent.”

She closed her eyes and started riding him, bracing a hand on his thigh and using the other to play with her clit. The motion was different, but she soon got the hang of it, and Fitz’s string of expletives punctuated with sharp moans spurred her on.

His hands were sliding over her sides and bum, and when she tilted her head back, his fingers found the clip holding her hair up and it tumbled down around her shoulders. Fitz combed his fingers through it as a rumble went through his chest.

“Was that a Scottish purr?”

Fitz laughed. “It’s was a ‘this is nice’ noise.”

“Oh, this is nice. I’m actually getting close.”

“Fuck, Jemma, let me feel you come.”

She groaned, and her fingers moved faster. Her legs were shaking, and she was so very ready to come, her body just seemed a little confused. It was like she was hovering just on the edge. She straightened up and pulled Fitz’s hand from her hip to her breast. He pinched at her nipple and Jemma whimpered.

“I’m so close,” she murmured. “So…so…”

She came with a strangled yell, pleasure exploding inside her, magnified by Fitz’s cock in her arse. She fucked him roughly, her fingers digging into his leg as wetness from her pussy ran over her fingers.

Fitz was groaning as she slumped forward. Jemma wiped her hand on the quilt. She’d squirted. That was unexpected. Fitz was twisting his hips and humping up into her, his breathing harsh. He let go, and the angle of his cock changed as he leaned back.

“Jemma, holy fuck, oh god…” He slammed up one last time, coming hard. She watched dazedly over her shoulder as his eyes rolled up and he collapsed backward onto the bed, his body twitching.

When he stilled, she anchored the condom with her fingers and slid off him, quickly turning and removing the condom itself. Fitz grunted softly.

“I’m just going to clean,” she said, nearly falling as she stood. Her legs were wobbly. She put the condom in the bathroom’s bin, cleaned herself, and returned with a rag for Fitz. He hadn’t moved and only murmured dazedly as she wiped his thighs, balls, and prick. “You’re going to have to get up,” she told him. The sheet under him was wet from her gushing everywhere.

“No.”

“Sorry, up, I have to wash the sheet.”

Grumbling, Fitz rolled to his side and wiggled over until he could sit on the edge of the bed to stretch, he turned and goggled at the spot on the sheets. “Shite, Jemma, you really did come all over everything. I thought I’d imagined that part.” He pointed at the spot, looking thrilled. “I made you do that.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve read too many scientific studies about female—”

Fitz held up a hand. “Don’t care what they say. It was hot to feel you squirt all over me. This is one of the few times I’m going to say I don’t care about the mechanics.”

She dropped the corner of the sheet she was holding and rushed to hug him. “Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked.

“Yeah, much more than I thought. It didn’t seem as…I don’t know, as naughty as I thought it would be once we got going. The feeling is really different, there’s a tight ring of pressure, which I liked, then it’s much less…” he frowned and tapped his fingers on her back. “Responsive? Than your pussy. I like how your muscles squeeze and caress my prick, but this was fun. And I think you liked it.”

“I did, also more than I thought, and the same with it not felling as naughty as I expected it too. And I couldn’t come quite as easy, which was why I came harder.”

Fitz stroked her hair. “So, is it something you’d do again?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

He looked down at her and smiled. “I should have known it’d be amazing. We built and programmed a set of drones unlike anything else in existence. We had fantastic anal sex.  There’s nothing we can’t do together.”

“Oh, Fitz,” she said breathily. “I want you in the worst way…standing up in a hammock.”

He cracked up and hid his face against her shoulder. “Okay, there’s one thing we can’t do.”

****

_Sunday morning_

Jemma woke to find Fitz draped over her again. This time, she was on her back, and he was on his side with his head on her shoulder. She played with the little hairs on the nape of his neck and smiled at his sleep-softened face.

This was what she wanted to wake up to for the rest of her life. A day wasn’t really a day without him in it, hadn’t been since the first time they’d talked. Now her nights weren’t complete without him either.

It didn’t hurt that he was so cute, she loved the shape of his lips, how his hair curled on his forehead, and the fan of his long lashes against his cheek. Her smile widened as Fitz mumbled something very Scottish sounding in his sleep and pressed his knees against her. His mouth opened and he proceeded to drool on her.

God help her, even that was adorable.

She tried to gently slip her fingers in between his face and herself to wipe off the spit, put accidently brushed his nose, and he snorted. His eyes opened. “Jemma?”

“Sorry, you were drooling on me.”

“I was not—” he made a face, wiped his mouth, and pushed himself up to stare in horror at her shoulder.

She laughed. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I drooled. On you, the girl who I…who’s my best friend.”

“I forgive you, and it was cute.”

“It was not.”

“It was.” She grabbed him and pulled him back down in a less than gentle manner.

He let out a startled oof, then cuddled against her, yawning.

Yesterday they’d gone to the mall to eat at the food court before shopping for clothes, which usually resulted in grumpy Fitz, but she’d dragged him into Victoria’s Secret, and he’d pointed out a few things he’d like to see her in, all while blushing furiously, and then hadn’t said a word when she’d taken him to the department store and chosen a few new jumpers for him. They’d ended up with a movie from Redbox and had promptly ignored it to make out on the couch, which had led to sex on the couch, followed by sleeping on the couch. It’d been late and the movie long over by the time they’d stumbled to Fitz’s room.

She held him for long minutes, but the kettle was calling her. “Tea?” she asked.

“Tea.”

She kissed him softly and padded to the kitchen in her bare feet. Jemma knew her feelings were far past best friend territory when it came to Fitz, and there was no way he didn’t know that. Which was a conundrum. After the last couple of days, she was certain he was in the same boat.

So why wasn’t he saying anything?

Could he really not know he loved her?

Jemma nodded at Roomie as he trundled past, busily going after every crumb. She filled the kettle, pulled down their mugs, and picked up the bag of Scrabble tiles. There weren’t near enough left.

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. It was okay. Fitz loved her back. He simply had failed to realize it yet. That was okay. He was bright, he’d know before long.

Fitz came into the kitchen and stretched. “Do you want to work on new project ideas today?” he asked, scratching his neck. He was stubbly, and Jemma cocked her head. It was a good look on him.

“Yes, but only after you pick a tile.”

He nodded absently, took a step towards the table, but didn’t put all his weight on it. He was up to something. Fitz spun and lunged for her. Jemma easily danced out of the way. “Good thing we’re sci-ops,” she said. “And not field agents. You telegraphed that from a mile away.”

Fitz sighed, then made another grab for the bag. She grasped his wrist and wrestled with him for a moment until they bumped into the fridge and she was able to push him back against it.

His grin was huge. “Are you going to let me pick?”

“Kiss first.” She nipped at his lips as Fitz snogged her like crazy. It wasn’t until the kettle whistled that she stepped back and tossed him the bag. Fitz came over as she poured the water and held out the tile to her. It was the letter: **M**.


	20. M

_Tuesday_

Repair work was an inane thing for Fitz to be doing, but he was stuck in his office while the holoengineering table was being installed in the lab. Fury had gotten on that immediately, and this time Fitz had relished the jealous looks he’d gotten as the table had arrived that morning.

His office door was open, as was Jemma’s and he could hear her typing away, no doubt writing up a proposal for a new project. She’d kept asking him about different toxins yesterday, and he told her at least ten times that he wasn’t any kind of an expert. That was her.

At a loss for what else to do, Fitz had grabbed one of the gadgets sent in from the field that needed to be fixed and had gotten to work. It was some kind of energy shield, and the battery wiring was a mess. No wonder it’d failed. He already made notes detailing what the issue was and how to improve on the design and was now implementing his suggestions as proof of concept.

Molly appeared, knocking first on Jemma’s door, then his. “It’s all done!” she said, nearly bouncing with the good news. Fitz dropped what he was doing and stood.

Jemma came out of her office at a trot. “It’s like Christmas morning!”

Molly made a face. “I don’t know what kind of Christmases you had.”

Fitz ignored her and hurried down the hall to the lab. The table was brand new and calling to him. “Hello, gorgeous,” he whispered, then strode over to turn it on.

“Doesn’t that make you jealous?” Molly asked Jemma.

Jemma sounded puzzled when she replied. “Is it supposed to? And he’s right, it’s beautiful.”

“I’m going to just leave you two alone with your new table, actually, hey, where did you two grow up?”

“Britain,” Jemma said absently.

“Could you be more specific?”

“Later,” Fitz said, making a shooing motion. He ghosted his fingers over the buttons, then uploaded the schematics for the drones. The table only had to think for a few seconds before he was able to bring a 3-D model up and begin to strip it of parts.

Jemma laughed, delighted, as she further disassembled one of the motors.

Fitz grinned at her, and she smiled at him.

This was going to be a great day.

****

_Wednesday_

They were nearly late, clocking in three minutes before they officially had to be there. Fitz knew for Jemma that was the same as actually being late. She insisted on being there at least twenty minutes early for most things.

He actually felt proud that he’d managed to get her to not have that cushion of time, though to be honest, it’d been Jemma who’d not wanted to get up and insisted on cuddling through multiple snooze buttons. She had started her period, and he thought she might be having cramps, judging from the way her back had tightened on and off that morning.

He’d stuck chocolate in his lunch bag to hand her like a heroic knight at lunch time.

As they passed their lab, he shared a grin with her over the holotable. It was a life saver. He’d easily made the changes in holographic form to the energy shield he’d been improving, and even been able to test out a few of the more outlandish theories he’d had.

At their offices, Jemma unlocked hers and pushed the door open as he did the same. She gasped. “Fitz!”

He couldn’t respond at first. His office was a mess. Drawers were pulled out and emptied, everything from his desk was now on the floor. His files were scattered, and even his old Academy text books had been yanked off their shelves and were lying open to random pages.

Jemma scurried over and peeked around him.

“You too?”

“What…who?”

He set his bag with his laptop down. Anything really important was digital and encrypted, so it was unlikely classified information had been compromised, but this felt personal. Someone had rummaged around his office.

Dully, he went to look into Jemma’s. It was just as destroyed.

“I’m going to get Richard,” Jemma said, storming off.

Fitz bent down and picked up a photo from amid Jemma’s things, the glass was cracked, and the back of the photo frame was missing, but it was the two of them on graduation day from the Academy. He slid it out from the remains of the frame and tossed the glass in the bin before carefully placing in on her desk.

“Holy crap,” Sherri said from behind him. Fitz sighed and put his hands on his hips. “What happened?”

“We don’t know. Someone went through our offices last night.”

“Who’d do that?”

He shook his head. “No clue. I’m guessing no one in your department had the same?”

“No. No one I’ve talked to this morning either. Fitz, I can’t…anyone here would know you and Jemma wouldn’t keep anything important in your offices.” She sounded bewildered, and he turned to face her. She looked both puzzled and upset. “Who would do this?”

“Wish I knew.”

Jemma and Richard appeared. Jemma’s face was pale, and Richard looked furious.

Sherri retreated a step. “Hey, you let me know if you or Simmons need help cleaning up, okay?”

He nodded, and she left.

Richard looked into both offices, then pressed a few buttons on his mobile. “You two stay put, don’t touch anything, I’m calling security.”

****

_Friday_

The TV in the break room was thankfully off as he and Jemma sat with Sherri, Milton, Molly, and Trevor as they ate lunch. Their offices were still off limits, and would be until sometime next week, so they were either in the lab or the break room for the moment.

The girls were cooing over some pictures Molly had of a night she’d spend out with her boyfriend, which was making Fitz feel off because no matter what kind of nice place he went with Jemma, there couldn’t be any picture sharing.

“Hey,” Milton said around a bite of chili dog, “You have any pets growing up?”

“What?” Fitz narrowed his eyes at Milton.

“I had a lab named Stanly,” Trevor said. “Black one. Used to chew on everything.”

Fitz shook his head. “My mum wouldn’t let me, said I’d be off to college too soon. I guess she was right.”

Trevor nodded. “What about Jemma?”

“I don’t think so. Her parents were busy, and she was off to more summer camps than I ever was.”

“Huh.” Milton took a drink of soda. “What was your first car?”

What the hell was with the twenty questions? “You see it every day. The blue Honda?”

“Oh,” Trevor said, munching loudly on crisps. “Have they got any leads on the break in?”

“Not a one,” Jemma spoke up, looking grateful to talk about something besides Molly’s boyfriend. “There was an interruption in the security cameras, and there are no fingerprints or trace evidence. We even had the drones scan. It’s like a ghost did it.”

Sherri grimaced. “You think SHIELD would be able to figure it out.”

“I don’t know,” Trevor shrugged. “Don’t most burglaries go unsolved?”

“I wasn’t even a burglary,” Fitz said. “Nothing was taken.” He took his mobile out to text Jemma. His plan for Saturday had coalesced over the last couple of days. Fitz wanted to not think about work, or attempted theft, or anything besides her.

 **M=Manhandle** , he sent.

Milton sighed. “It’s just stupid.”

“Tell me about it,” Fitz said. Jemma was typing on her phone. “I’m working on creating a way to prevent the cameras from being affected by a similar signal again.”

Jemma looked up. “And I’m working on a way to detect extremely small amounts of material that doesn’t obviously belong in the environment. It’s a bit of a long-shot, but it could help.”

“When’s that going to be ready?” Trevor asked.

“Not soon enough, I’m just the experimental design state.”

Fitz’s phone vibrated.

 **I assume you mean you want to push me around?** Jemma said.

He glared at her, but she ignored him and sipped her water.

 **The other way around** , he returned.

Jemma looked at her phone and put a hand over her mouth, but he could tell she was smiling. **Okay, that I can do.**

A thrill went through him.

The middle of the week might have been the pits, but the start had been spectacular, and the end was looking pretty good too.

There were a few moments of silence.

“So,” Trevor said. “Jemma, did you know your grandmother well?”

Jemma looked like a deer in the headlights.

“Right,” Fitz said, standing. “Enough chatter for one day. Jemma and I have multiple projects involving the new holoengineering table, and we need to get cracking.”

“Yes, indeed, it’s been good catching up with everyone, but we need to get sciencing.”

He followed behind her into the lab.

“Sciencing?” he asked with a laugh.

“Oh, I don’t know, I just wanted to get out of there before that got any more awkward.”

“Is that what normal people talk about, dead pets and grandparents?”

Jemma’s nose wrinkled. “It’s a good thing I have you, then.”

****

_Saturday_

The living room seemed too small as Fitz paced it, back and forth, as his mind leapt from one idea to the next. Half-formed thoughts dating back to the Academy, bits and pieces from science fiction movies—a sonic screwdriver would be bloody useful—and random things Jemma had said to him over the years floated through his brain.

Somewhere in there was an idea that should be brought to life.

“How’s it going?” Jemma asked from the entrance to the hallway.

“What about some kind of glue?” Fitz asked. “Maybe it responds to sound frequencies to adhere and release?” He turned towards her and stopped in his tracks. She had on a black lace bra and bright red knickers. The handcuffs were dangling from one finger.

Fitz’s mouth went dry and his thoughts shorted out as most of the blood in his body headed for his groin. Her hair was hanging in heavy waves around her shoulders and she was wearing a pair of pumps with wicked looking heels.

Jemma walked towards him, hips swaying.

“Shoes?” he squeaked.

“I had them in the back of my closet.” Her lips pursed as she regarded the front of his trousers. “I’d never worn them, and I thought it was about time.”

He nodded, because his tongue did not seem to be working. Jemma put a hand on his belly and circled him, dragging her fingers over him as she went. When she reached his front again, she paused and tilted her head.

Fitz felt like he was a fish on a line, being toyed with, and it was everything he could have wished for.

Jemma roughly grabbed the waistband of his trousers and tugged him forward a stumbling step. She rubbed at his cock through the fabric,  making him moan, then yanked the front open before pulling Fitz’s trousers, along with his boxers, down his thighs. She knelt at his feet to get everything to his ankles.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his cock ached. “You make me so hard, Jems.” She always had. He’d been a teenaged idiot, tossing off in his dorm room and pretending it wasn’t his lab partner’s tits under a tight jumper he was thinking about.

“No noise,” she said, and he tried, but she licked him from sac to tip as she stood, and he whimpered.

Jemma fisted the front of his shirt. “I said to be quiet.” She propelled him backward towards the couch, and with his trousers around his legs he stumbled the few steps, then fell onto his arse on the cushions. Jemma hadn’t let go of his shirt, and it tore in the process.

Her lips curved in a smile, and ripped the hole larger, exposing his chest so she could scratch her nails down it. His cock jerked.

She tapped the tip with a finger, the handcuffs still hanging around her knuckle. “Impatient.”

“Damn right, you look like a wet dream, come here—”

Fitz grunted as Jemma straddled him and grabbed his wrists, pinning them beside his head. “I said, no noise.” She clicked one side of the fuzzy cuffs closed around his wrist, pulled his hand above his head, and brought the other wrist to meet it. The other cuff clicked shut.

His toes curled.

God, yes. This is what he needed, to feel like she owned him, because she already had his heart but it was nice to know how much she wanted the rest of him too.

Jemma bent over and nipped at one of his nipples. He moaned, and she trailed a row of sucking kisses over to his other one, biting it a little harder. He hissed and his hips bucked. Smiling, she licked her way up his neck to his mouth, kissing him deeply and nibbling on his lower lip.

He snogged her greedily, telling her he loved her over and over again with every movement of his tongue and press of their mouths. One day, soon, he’d say it out loud, the moment he knew Jemma would be comfortable with it.

He was going to spend all his days after that one saying it to her as much as possible, so she never had a doubt.

Jemma’s palms flattened against his chest and she shoved him backward. He melted into the couch, gazing up at his own Amazonian goddess. She undid her bra, pulling it down her arms to reveal her tits with their tight nipples. Lifting herself up, she clutched his hair and yanked his face right into her boobs.

This was heaven. He happily nuzzled them and sucked a nipple into his mouth when he found it. Jemma moaned and arched her back, her fingers digging into his scalp. He sucked harder and her body undulated, but then she pulled his head back, capturing his lips again.

Fuck, he was going to combust.

Letting go of his head, Jemma leaned back. Her hand wrapped around his prick and tugged somewhat less than gently. It felt fantastic and he couldn’t help lifting his hips and humping against her palm.

“This is for me?” she asked, voice steel-edged.

“Yes,” he gasped. “All yours. Always.” Couldn’t she hear what he was trying to say?

“It better be mine, because I need you. Always.” Her eyes met his and for a moment, he would have sworn he saw the same desperation that was inside him, warmth and love straining to get out, but then she grabbed his balls and tugged a little and he had to concentrate on not coming all over her.

She released him with a tiny pat, and pulled the crotch of her knickers to the side while she positioned his cock at her opening. Locking gazes with him, she dropped down onto his prick, taking him in all the way to the hilt. It felt so good, being deep inside her, and he pressed against the back of the couch, lifting his hips to make sure he was as far as he could go.

Jemma moaned.

Fitz tried to reach for her, only to be stymied by the cuffs on his wrist. Jemma made the cutest growl ever and pushed his arms back into place. She rolled her hips, quickly finding a wild rhythm that made her boobs bounce enticingly.

She bit her lip and leaned back slightly, the fingers of one hand descending to rub her clit.

He felt used in the best possible way.

Jemma’s other hand was on his chest and her fingers were digging in. He was going to have bruises. He could hardly wait.

There was a hitch in Jemma’s breathing, and he knew she was close. Her thighs quivered, and her pussy became a warm, wet, wonderful vice.

She came with a strangled groan, and his head fell back, his eyes closed as he reveled in the pulsing of her cunt around him. Jemma dropped forward, her hips moving less forcefully now, and mouthed first his shoulder, and then his neck.

Her hands worked between Fitz and the couch and her fingertips dug into his back. He was going to be marked all over and it thrilled him to no end.

Jemma moaned and her teeth nipped at his neck, she laved the spot with her tongue, then sucked at him. He groaned and braced his feet on the floor so he could piston into her. Her fingers pressed harder, and she mewled, her hips moving his frantic jerks.

She came again. Her entire body jerked, and her teeth nipped hard before she pushed herself to where she could kiss his mouth.

“Fuck, Jemma,” he groaned. His sac was tightening, and he slammed his cock deep into her twice more before the pleasure overtook him as he released. He gave a hoarse yell and curled up around Jemma, his body trembling and cock bucking.

She released the cuffs and pushed him to lie down with her stretched out on top. That was a good idea, otherwise he might float away.

Her shoes thumped on the floor as she kicked them off.

Fitz was fairly certain he hadn’t known what happiness was before Jemma, and now that had been upgraded to being blissful and in love with her. He stroked her back, carded his hands through her hair, and pet her bum through her knickers.

“Oh, Jemma.” He nuzzled against her cheek. “I—”

She gave the most adorable little snore. Chuckling, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, letting all his love radiate from his body right into her.

****

_Sunday_

The bed was empty when Fitz woke Sunday morning. He had a moment of disorientated panic when he thought he might have dreamed every moment of his time with Jemma. But then he found her, fully dressed, standing in front of his chest of drawers.

“Everything okay?” he asked. His voice was hoarse with sleep.

“Yes.” Jemma came to sit beside him. “I should be asking you that. It’s nearly eleven am.”

He considered for a moment. “I think so? We fell asleep on the couch yesterday and then I was up way too late playing Gears.”

“That’s not your favorite.”

“Horde mode.”

“Ah.” She was holding something in her hand, and he pulled her fingers up to his face so he could see. It was his grandma’s ring, that his mum had sent him. “I’d almost forgotten about it,” Jemma said. “I was bringing in the scrabble tiles and saw the box on the dresser and couldn’t remember what you would have gotten from home.”

He snuggled down in the bed and held out an arm in invitation. Jemma cuddled beside him, and he took the ring from her. It was pretty, a plain gold band with a small emerald. It’d look perfect on Jemma’s finger.

Fitz stomach flipped, and he carefully set the ring on the nightstand, then wrapped his arm back around Jemma. It was scary enough thinking about telling her how much he loved her, asking her to marry him was in a whole different realm of terrifying.

Part of his brain scoffed at him. Jemma never did things by halves, and if she loved him, it would be entirely and he had nothing to worry about.

He was still worried.

Jemma softly kissed his chest and dropped the disappointingly light Scrabble bag onto it. It was a reminder he was running out of time.

Not that he could fathom an end to what they were doing. There was no way he could flip a switch and turn his feelings off and go back to living mostly in his room and sleeping alone at night.

He closed his eyes and started running though prime numbers to calm himself. He got into triple digits before he felt a tiny bit better.

Jemma kissed the corner of his mouth and her fingers petted his chest. “I need to apologize, you have quite the set of bruises that have shown up over the last day.”

“Do I?” he asked, aiming for casual and not gleeful, like he was feeling.

Her finger brushed his neck, and he sucked in a breath. “Sorry, that’s…I…”

“Jemma?”

“I gave you a really obvious hickie.”

He opened his lids to find her looking anything except sorry. “It’s okay, I’ll wear a turtleneck tomorrow.” Jemma made a little hum and touched the spot again. He didn’t mind the ouch so much this time. “Are you going to choose?”

“Maybe?” She dropped her hand to his belly, then walked her finger slowly up to the bag. She loosened the laces and reached in, coming back out with a tile. She looked at it, then turned it towards him. It was the letter: **S**.


	21. S

_Friday_

It’d been a good week. Routine. Or her and Fitz’s new routine, which Jemma adored.

Waking up with Fitz, kisses and cuddles—Tuesday was fast becoming morning sex day—drinking tea together, getting ready, leaving for work and driving in comfortable silence, working side-by-side in their lab while discussing the complexities of the problems they were solving, eating lunch together, more work, driving home, relaxing separately or together, having dinner, and then curling up under the covers to snuggle down and sleep.

Her life felt very complete.

She’d lean against him sleepily in the morning sunlight that slanted in through the blinds while they waited for the kettle to boil. He made a point of kissing her goodnight. Reading on the couch or watching TV now involved hugs and snogging.

It wasn’t all that different from before they’d started their experiment, just much more tactile.

Well, and Jemma knew now that all those endless happy and warm feelings she had for Fitz were love.

Sometimes she wished she got to see more of the world and experience more new things, but the thought of doing any of that without Fitz right by her side made her stomach turn.

The only disruption to their routine this week had been Fitz wearing a black turtleneck he’d dug out of the back of his closet to cover the mark she’d given him.

It made him look like a starving poet, or an artist, and it was hard for her to keep her hands off him at work. He’d be bent over his work station, showing off his rear, and then he’d turn and be all rakish curls and blue eyes with the turtle neck clinging to his shoulders and it was decidedly unfair.

She’d worn a skirt with no hose on Wednesday for some payback and they’d barely made it to their flat before they’d been all over each other.

It wasn’t quite noon on Friday, and she hadn’t sent Fitz an email yet, but she’d been sure for most of the week what she wanted S to be, which was spanking. The question was who would be the one giving and the one receiving.

The success of her being rough with Fitz—it’d turned her on a lot more than she’d expected—would suggest it should be her spanking him. Which had a lot of possibilities, because she did like his bum, but if she was being honest, it was the other way around she really wanted.

Jemma was sure that if she gave clear directions, Fitz would be more than happy to bend her over his knee. She’d wear something naughty, like a dress and stocking with no knickers, and when they went to the market, she could “accidently” flash him, and he’d have no choice when they got home but to say something.

She paused with her hands hovering over the glassware she’d been washing. The computer system had not been working correctly the last couple of days, and while she and Fitz had their own laptops and weren’t as affected as the GIS department, or other IT heavy departments, they’d both decided to do cleaning and maintenance of their lab rather than risk connecting to the wi-fi.

Fitz currently had their centrifuge pulled apart and was cursing under his breath at it as he inspected the parts.

Jemma snuck a glance at him and bit her lip as her pussy throbbed. Those talented hands on her rear, caressing and leaving red spots as he smacked her? Yes, please. He could take her from behind, and she could tell him to continue spanking her while he screwed her.

Jemma’s eyes drifted closed.

Maybe he’d be okay with another round of anal sex. The fantasy in her mind got a lot dirtier and rougher. Fitz could narrate in a sex roughened voice what he was doing, she only ever needed to supply a little encouragement to get his mouth going. Perhaps at the end, he could pull out, strip the condom off and flip her over and come on her breasts.

That sounded distinctly plausible even if it did require some coordination she might not have after orgasming several times.

Her pleasant fantasy was interrupted by a loud whoop from down the hallway.

Jemma opened her eyes and met Fitz’s puzzled gaze.

As the voices from the direction of the biology department increased in volume, something in her gut twisted. Laughter and what sounded like a high five spurred her into action. She marched out of the lab, Fitz trailing along behind her, and hurried down the hall towards the biggest bio lab.

It looked like most of their coworkers were inside, clustered around a laptop Trevor was sitting in front of.

Sherri was standing beside him, looking smug. “And that’s the earliest date, you’re sure?” she asked Trevor.

“I’m sure, Fitz-Simmons have definitely been together for at least the last four months. There are emails, texts, photos, and video evidence.”

“I win!” Sherri said loudly. “I told you. Now pay up.”

There was a collective groan.

Jemma thought she was going to faint, her head was swimming, and Fitz had gone alarmingly pale.

“Can you play any of the videos?” Milton asked.

Trevor laughed. “They’re not exactly safe for work.”

“Oh, come on, how can we know if you don’t show us the proof?”

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Jemma sucked in a breath as Fitz whimpered. She plowed through the crowd, pushed aside a very embarrassed looking Molly, who was searching through her purse, and reached the front just as Trevor was hitting play on what Jemma very well knew was a video of Fitz getting himself off. There were several pictures already pulled up, one with her top pulled down and her breasts exposed, and one of Fitz with his trousers pulled tight over his prick.

She slammed the laptop closed, nearly getting Trevor’s fingers. She wished she had.

There was a murmur as everyone realized her and Fitz were in the room.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” she snapped.

Fitz took a step back and disappeared, and while she understood wanting to flee, now she was brassed off at him too for leaving her to face a crowd. One that’d now seen her tits.

Brilliant.

“I won the pool,” Sherri said brightly. “We’ve been betting for months over whether or not you two were getting it on, and I had the earliest date.”

Jemma’s mouth fell open. “Excuse me?” She spun to face Trevor. “Did you hack my phone?”

“Not directly, I couldn’t. I had to copy everything into a program and it took forever to get in.” He winced. “Sorry.”

“Sorry? You were about to play something that was defiantly not made for anyone in this room beside me.”

“I wasn’t going to, at first, but…” he trailed off and sighed.

“But you’ve already watched.”

“Not all of them.”

“What a comfort.” Jemma’s eyes fixed on Milton. “I obviously don’t expect much from you, but I thought at some point you might care a little. I don’t like being wrong.” She could barely think, the entire situation felt unreal. Where was Fitz?

“Sorry,” Milton said. “I’m sorry, Jemma. We’d all been speculating about it for so long and trying to get you two to trip up and say something, but both of you are too smart for that and…we all got carried away.”

“Everyone back to work!” Richard’s voice boomed from the doorway. His face was thunderous. Fitz was standing behind him, still looking sick. People scattered, including Sherri and Milton, but Jemma clamped her hand of Trevor’s shoulder so he couldn’t get up. “What is the meaning of this?” Richard asked, glaring down at a squirming Trevor.

“He stole my mobile, or found it,” Jemma said. “Copied it when he couldn’t get it unlocked, and just put a good deal of extremely personal material on display.”

“Personal?” Richard asked.

“Sexual.”

Richard looked over at Fitz, who was standing back, his arms crossed and head bowed. “Ah, Fury was right.”

“Not the point,” Jemma said. She was floored. “Our privacy was grossly violated so that someone could win a bet.”

“Trevor,” Richard barked, making him jump. “My office, now.”

He grabbed his laptop and scrambled out of his chair, looking pained. “Sorry,” he said to Jemma. “Really, man,” he said in Fitz’s direction.

Fitz didn’t acknowledge him as he hurried past.

Richard sighed and rubbed his temple. “This exact situation isn’t in the management guidebooks.”

Jemma squeezed her hands into fists. “Fitz and I are going to take the rest of the day off. Possibly part of next week. We’ll let you know.”

Richard nodded. “I’ll approve the time and let you know what disciplinary action has been taken.”

Jemma nodded and went to Fitz. “Let’s go home.” He nodded, and she got him to uncross his arms and took his hand as they numbly walked to their lab to collect their computers.

In the car, the both sat quietly. Jemma managed to push her initial shock aside and focus on the problem. By the time Fitz let them into their flat, she had a working theory.

“Fitz, I think Trevor might have been the one to break into our offices.” There’d been no leads in the time since it happened, and since nothing had gone missing, very little had been done about it.

“Yeah?” He took off his shoes and sat down heavily on the couch.

“Looking for passwords.”

“Oh.”

She sat beside him. “Are you okay?”

“Not really. I…those people are our friends, Jemma, and they did that to us.” He turned pleading eyes on her.

“It hurts, and I’m very angry. That stuff wasn’t meant for anyone but us to see, or even to know about.”

Pain flashed across his face and he stood, running his hands through his hair. “Is that the real problem, Jems? Now everyone knows? It’s not a nice contained experiment anymore?”

“Fitz! Sit down!”

He shook his head and walked towards the hallway.

Panic cramped her stomach. She ran, managing to get in front of him and put a hand on his chest. “Please, wait. That’s not it at all! I don’t care what anyone else knows. I’m almost glad, because now I don’t have to keep telling people you’re not my boyfriend, when you rather clearly are. I just wouldn’t have chosen the entire office looking at my boobs as the way to do that.”

Fitz’s eyes widened. “Your boobs?”

“You didn’t get close enough to see, but yes, that photo was on display, but it didn’t nearly make me as mad as the one of you with your trousers pulled tight over your prick!”

He slumped against the wall, wincing.

Jemma wanted to punch something. “That’s mine to see! To touch!”

Fitz reached out and grabbed her upper arm, pulling her into a hug. She held him tight. After a few minutes he made a funny noise. “Jemma, this is all a lot to process, but did you call me your boyfriend?”

She straightened up and looked him right in the eye. “I did. This stopped being some experiment to me a while ago. I was hoping…” Jemma’s heart was trying to beat out of her chest. She hadn’t felt this nervous about defending either of her doctoral theses.

“Hoping?” Fitz trembled.

“Hoping this never has to end. I like us together, a lot. It’s fun going through the alphabet, and I want to keep doing that, but…when it’s over, I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to lose you because there’s only twenty-six letters.” She was going to cry. Sniffing, she wiped at her eyes. “Fitz, say something, I’ve never been more scared than I am right now.”

This was it, she’d just crossed the line.

“Don’t be scared,” Fitz whispered. “I’m here with you. Right here. I don’t want it ever to end, either. I thought we could one day experimentally get engaged, and then trial run a marriage for…ever, maybe buy a house, purely to test if we are able to. Make a power point presentation on the raw data collected from our experiment at having a child. Might need to see if that one’s repeatable.” His face was crumpling, like he was about to start sobbing.

Jemma fell in love with him all over again. “I like those parameters,” she said. He held her close, kissing her madly as she clung to him. Her life, heart, and home.

They might have stood there hugging forever, but Roomie bumped against her foot, finally making her move.

“We’re in the way,” he said, stepping around the vacuum, but still holding her hand.

“What do we do now?”

Fitz made a face. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m exhausted, and this…is a lot to process.”

Jemma followed him back down the hallway to the living room. “We could put our pajamas on, order a pizza, and watch a terrible movie. I think there’s one where there’s a shark and octopus hybrid? Which isn’t even remotely possible. And we can break out the gin and scotch and get thoroughly pissed.”

He laughed. “I cannot wait to hear you complain endless about the science.” He brushed her hair out of her face. “This has been the worst day ever, and the best.”

“It really has.”

****

_Saturday_

Waking up had been miserable. Jemma had known the night before she’d drunk far too much, and her headache had only confirmed it.

Fitz hadn’t been any better off.

They’d finally drunk enough water and gotten enough aspirin down to approach being human again and had dressed to go and do their weekly shopping. Jemma had on frayed jeans and an Oxford t-shirt that’d seen better days. Fitz was in track pants and a grey shirt she was sure had been white at one point. His hair was frizzy, and he kept closing his eyes.

Back in their flat, they put away their groceries and Jemma opted for a strawberry yogurt for lunch while Fitz slumped down on a kitchen chair with a bag of crisps.

“Are we still doing the scrabble tiles now?” he asked.

“I’d like to, it’s been fun, and there’s not that many left. Do you not want to?”

“I do.” He yawned and scratched his chest. “But you didn’t send me an email or tell me anything.”

She ate a spoonful to keep from having to talk for a moment. Her original idea wouldn’t work now. They were both too emotional after yesterday. Spanking or being rough seemed like much more than either one of them could manage right now. It was something she’d have to file away for later.

Jemma grinned around her spoon. There was going to be endless laters.

“That’s a cheeky grin,” Fitz said.

“Well, I was thinking my first idea is a poor choice now, it’s not what either of us need, but it’s something we can do later. We have all kinds of tomorrows to look forward to now.”

Fitz’s face split with a wide smile. “We do.” They beamed at each other. “But what about now?”

She took another bite. S…that could be just sex, she supposed, though that seemed banal.

“I want to, I mean, can we make love?”

Fitz tossed the chip bag on the table and leaned over on folded arms towards her. “There’s nothing I’d like more.” His expression became sly. “But that’s not an S.”

“Fitz!”

“Has to be an S. It’s in the rules.” He was chuckling.

“I made up the rules.”

“We made up the rules, and I’m holding you to them.”

She batted her eyelashes at him. “But, Fitz—”

“Not going to work. I’m familiar with all your wiles.”

“Ugh. Fine.” She was fizzy with happiness. This was just what she’d been imaging, except she need an S-word, even if it felt like her brain was moving at a snail’s pace. Which was slow. She set her finished yogurt down. “Slow. We can do slow and gentle.”

“Excellent.” He sucked on his cheek. “Give me a bit to make everything just right.”

“I have no idea what needs to be just right, but if you want. I’m going to shower.”

Jemma carefully shaved, and blew dry her hair which she almost never did, but Fitz was still banging around in his room when she was done, so she put her robe on and sat in the living room to paint her nails. “Go spy on Fitz for me,” she said to Roomie, but he only headed over to his dock. It wouldn’t be that difficult to install a way for him to understand voice commands, would it?

Fitz finally finished up whatever he was up to, but then he had a shower. Honestly, she would be ancient by the time he was ready.

At last, wearing a clean shirt and pajama pants, he came to stand in front of her. He looked incredibly nervous as he held out his hand. “Can I escort my girlfriend to bed?”

Her heart did a little swoosh at his words. “Of course.”

She took his hand, and he led her to his room. The overhead light was off and he’d found a couple of strings of fairy lights somewhere and tacked them up. All the laundry was corralled, and he’d changed the sheets on the bed. There were candles clustered on his desk and drawers. Soft music played from somewhere, and the room even smelled faintly of flowers.

Fitz must have been holding back, wanting to do this and not feeling like he could.

Oh no, she was going to cry again. She turned to look up into his dear face.

“Jemma?”

“It’s perfect, now kiss me.”

He did, putting a hand on her back and bending slightly to capture her mouth. It was warm and tender, and even the sweep of his tongue against her lips was soft.

The shuffled towards the bed, and when her legs met the mattress, she sat down. Fitz cupped her face in his hands, still kissing her. It amazed her how fast all the anxiety from the last several days simply drained away.

Jemma smiled and leaned back. Fitz grabbed the sash to her robe and slowly pulled the knot out. She slipped the robe down her shoulders until it was puddled around her hips.

“You’re so beautiful, Jems. There isn’t a part of you I don’t treasure, from your toes to your cerebral cortex.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She tugged at his shirt, and when he stepped back to take it off she pulled her legs onto the bed and scooted over to give him room, but Fitz surprised her. He left his pajama bottoms on and sat on the side of the bed, reaching over to trail his fingers down her legs. The light touch made her shiver, but he didn’t stop until he reached her foot, lifting it up so he could kiss her toes with a smile, then along her instep, and up her ankle, pausing to suck on the point of the bone. Jemma moaned, it felt better than it had any right to.

He set that foot down, then tugged at the other, and she rolled onto her back and lifted it up. Fitz paid that one the same attention, then moved so he was kneeling on the bed and kissed his way up her leg. He stroked behind one knee and she gasped.

Fitz laughed softly and continued working his way up. She had her legs spread, and he was between her thighs, but he avoided where she really wanted his tongue and lips and instead pecked, nibbled, and licked his way over her hip bone. Jemma grumped, which made Fitz laugh harder. Her noises turned into a low moan when he dipped his tongue into her navel.

He worked his way up, between her breasts, made her squirm as he feasted on her neck, and then was looking down into her face.

“Is it my turn?” she asked hopefully.

Fitz shook his head. “Sorry, Jemma, I’ve waited too long. This is me making love to you, slow and gentle, you can have a go some other time.”

“You’re very rude.” Inside she was melting. The look in his eyes was devilish and adoring. It was intense, to be the focus of his entire being.

“Too bad.” He kissed her, melding his lips to hers. She put her arms around him, holding him loosely, as his tongue explored her mouth. He even licked up the underside of her tongue, which made the heat in her belly turn molten. She hooked a leg around his hip, and pushed her core up against his hard-on, trying to suggest he get on with it.

Fitz seemed unmoved. He worked his way along her jaw, traced around her ear with his tongue and sucked on the lobe, then kissed a path back down her neck to nuzzle at her breasts.

“They’re aching,” she admonished as he rubbed his stubble against one nipple.

“Poor Jems,” he murmured, capturing the other nipple in his mouth and sucking. She cried out and arched up. Fitz must have taken pity on her because the fingers of one hand went between her legs to pet her folds. He released her nipple and looked up at her. “You're so fucking wet,” he said, stroking her clit with his thumb as he pressed several fingers deep into her channel, angling them just right. She tightened her inner muscles around them, sighing in enjoyment.

“It’s wonderful how well we know each other’s bodies now.”

Fitz took a shuddering breath. “Never could have guessed exactly how wonderful it’d be to kiss, lick, taste, and fuck you. That’d you would want my cock, fuck I’m blasted hard right now, stuffed deep inside your cunt.” He made a face. “Sorry, not very romantic.”

She rolled her hips. “But it turns me on.”

“I was planning on eating you out, getting your cream all over my face and listening to you scream my name when you came, but I don’t think I can wait any more.” He worked his fingers in and out of her pussy. “I need all this wrapped around me, I need you fucking holding onto my prick. Jemma—”

He crashed his mouth into hers, and she helped him wiggle his pajama bottoms down. He positioned the tip of his cock against her opening, but paused, resting his forehead against hers.

She stroked his face. Her heart was so full, it was overflowing. With a little grunt, he pressed forward with his hips, just enough to slide the head into her.

“Fitz,” she said. “My Fitz.” Her chest was heaving, and she was boiling with love for him. His breathing stuttered as he thrust forward, working his cock into her inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and kissed the corner of his mouth.

Fitz sighed softly, and at last began to thrust. He was gentle, his strokes long and slow, and he paused when he was all the way in to grind against her clit. It was overwhelming, and she was soon circling her hips and trying to get more friction.

“Jemma,” he panted. “I thought—”

“Fuck me harder, Fitz. Please. I love you, but harder.”

“Fucking christ,” he sputtered, his hips ramming her down against the bed.

“Like that!” She was humping rapidly against him, a hand in his hair, her other dropping to his arse to hurry him on.

Fitz braced himself on his palms and pistoned hard and fast.

She came in a blinding spark of light, the pleasure stealing her vision and making her keen. “Fitz,” she said, her voice rough, when she could speak again.

“Jemma, Jems, oh fuck.” His body was still driving her into the mattress. “Did you mean it?”

It took her a second to figure out what she’d said. “Yes,” she murmured. “Yes.” That time it was louder. “I love you.”

“Fuck, Jemma, I love you. I’ve loved you forever.” His thrusts were a flurry, then he drove hard into her and came, groaning raggedly. His cock pulsed hard as come rushed into her, and she stroked his rear as he made unintelligible noises against her throat.  

It was a few moments before she put the pieces of what he said together.

“Fitz?”

“Mmmmmmmph?” he replied from where he was draped over her.

“Forever?”

He made a noise that sounded like an affirmative.

“What do you mean forever?”

He managed to raise his head though his eyes were still unfocused. “I think I loved you always. Since I first saw you. Hard to tell now, it was all muddied up, but I really figured it out when we first kissed.”

“What?”

Fitz settled back down against her and clumsily pet her hair.

“You…that’s…I didn’t realize how in love with you I was until…when we did our bar hookup and I wasn’t able to pretend it wasn’t you because all I wanted was you and I freaked out when I actually put all the pieces together and figured out the years of warm happiness around you was love. I won’t allow you to have known an entire week before I did!” Fitz’s shoulders shook, and she realized he was laughing. “Oh, you.”

“You won’t let me?” he said, appearing much more alert now. He moved off her, and she whimpered when he pulled his cock from her and a rush of come followed. Fitz settled beside her and she rolled to face him. “I don’t think you have a choice. This time I’m first in the class.”

Jemma fumed. It was impossible. “Ugh, Fitz. I was waiting for you to figure out you were in love with me and tell me. You weren’t supposed to be, what, waiting on me?”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

She sighed as he kissed the end of her nose. “Fine.”

“But I was first!”

“Oh my…you know what, let’s go play skeeball.”

“We had pizza last night.”

“Are you really going to complain about pizza two night in a row?”

“Not as long as the girl I love is there…who I knew I loved first.”

“Fitz!”

****

_Sunday_

Jemma had made Fitz bacon and waffles for breakfast, since she’d trounced him squarely at skeeball the night before, and because she loved him. They were both reading on their mobiles, their legs intertwined under the table.

Roomie was poking around the kitchen to get crumbs, and she laughed when Fitz absently crumbled a bit of his waffle on the floor.

“Don’t want him getting bored,” Fitz said defensively.

“Certainly not, though speaking of bored, I haven’t heard from Richard yet, have you?”

“No. Wanker.”

“I’m not sure I want to go back in for a while. We can do quite a lot here, working on reports and proposals, as well as experiment design work.”

“Reasonable. I think we earned a week off.”

“I’ll send an email.”

“Thank you.” Fitz looked up. “Am I picking a letter?”

Jemma nodded as she plopped a strawberry in her mouth. Standing, she went to get the bag of tiles from the drawer, the lightness of it no longer bothering her. On the way back she noticed she’d left the waffle iron on and went to turn it off. After pressing the button, her finger brushed the hot iron, and she hissed, dropping the tiles and rushing to the sink.

Fitz was beside her immediately. “You okay?”

“Tiny burn.”

 He frowned at her hand. “Bloody hell, Jemma, you’re not supposed to brand yourself.” Grumbling in a way that made her smile, he slammed around the kitchen, as he put ice from the freezer in a baggie and wrapped it in a dishtowel. She shook the water off her hand and gratefully accepted the ice, sitting back down at the table with it over her finger.

Fitz gathered up the dishes and dumped them in the sink, still grumping about carelessness in a way she knew meant he cared.

Retrieving the scrabble bag, he sat across from her. “Is it nice and cold?”

“Yes, thank you. Now pick.”

He rummaged through the bag and came up with a tile that he set down carefully atop the cool pack on her finger. It was the letter: **I**.


	22. I

_Tuesday_

Fitz was sure he was orbiting Neptune he was so high from Jemma saying she was in love with him. Even the thought that Trevor, of all people, had probably watched their dirty videos wasn’t going to bring him down.

They’d called into work yesterday, but Jemma insisted on doing what she could from home so she wouldn’t get behind, and Fitz had spent his time developing a chip that could easily be added to almost any cellphone that would prevent it from being copied.

Testing had been a puzzle, until he’d figured out he’d needed his own way to try to duplicate an entire mobile, and had developed several methods, combining them at the end to a single program that was both fast and thorough. The chip could still easily block it, and Fitz installed it on his and Jemma’s mobiles, just in case.

He stretched out his legs and yawned. It was too early to be awake.

Except it was Tuesday morning. The thought had blood rushing to his groin. He was lying on his side, his back to Jemma, so he had no idea if she was awake, too. “Jems?” he hissed.

There was a shuffling of limbs, and then Jemma wrapped herself around him. “Morning,” she slurred. Her hand patted his chest, then trailed down to rub his cock through his boxers.

He groaned softy and pushed against her hand. “Morning.”

Jemma made a noise that might have been a reply as she squished tighter against him, rubbing her breasts against his back. Morning Jemma was an endless delight. Fitz shifted and managed to turn over.

She pouted until her fingers found his cock again and she smiled.

He was completely erect now, and running through a list of possible scenarios, all of which required Jemma to not have her knickers on.

Fitz brushed her hair behind her ear and leaned in to kiss her as his fingers trailed down her back. She must have read his mind—per usual—because her hand left his cock and she pulled her knickers down, wiggling to get them all the way off.

“I love you,” he said against her lips.

“Love you too, but please hurry up and fuck me.”

He had to hide his face against her shoulder as he laughed. Jemma tangled her hand in his hair and guided his mouth back to hers, then they were kissing and most of his rational thoughts left the building. He rolled her onto her back and settled between her knees. Her legs fell open, and she lifted her hips and ground shamelessly against him.

“Jemma, fuck, wait a tic or I’m not even going to get inside you.” He pushed at the waistband of his boxers, getting them down just far enough to free his cock. Jemma fisted him and guided him to her opening and he thrust in with little finesse. That seemed to be what she wanted, judging from the sounds she made.

He tried to not move for a few seconds, but then gave up and thrust raggedly into her. He groaned as his balls tightened against him. Jemma arched up, and he nuzzled against her tits through her shirt.

“Oh, Fitz,” she moaned, the sound driving him wild. He wasn’t going to last. There was no way. She was so wet and felt so good and he loved her so bloody much. His belly tightened and Jemma rolled her hips, humping up against him.

Grunting, he came hard enough to see stars. Jemma grabbed his arse and pulled him tight against her as his cock pulsed. He ended up panting with his cheek smushed against her chest. Damn it, he was a bloody wanker.

“Fitz—” she started, but he pushed himself up before she could get any further and descended on her pussy. He spread the lips apart with one hand—fuck it was satisfying to see his come leaking back out of her—and licked her clit. Jemma squeaked and fisted his hair, yanking him down against her cunt.

This was better than getting off himself. She tasted perfect, like her and him mixed together, and her body undulated as she moved against his face. He licked and sucked at her clit, teasing the poor thing until she was babbling something about never letting him have sweets again, then he flicked hard with his tongue a few times until she came with a string of creative curses.

Her leg jerked straight as her pussy fluttered, and he was a mite proud of himself.

The instant she relaxed, he returned to her clit.

“Fitz!” she yelped. “Fitz—”

He slid two fingers into her, and she moaned obscenely loud. It’d been a brilliant thing to get to know each other so well at the start, because he knew exactly the right angle and speed.

Jemma came again in less than a minute. She used her hold on his hair to tug him up her body this time, and he gladly followed her direction, collapsing on his back beside her.

She sat up, grinning down at him.

“I feel like I should apologize for being as randy as I was, but I think the end result was pleasant enough for you.” Fitz patted her hip.

Jemma’s smile widened. “I really can’t complain.”

He laced his hands behind his head, gazing up at the center of his universe.

“Hang on a moment, and don’t move,” she said, fumbling around on the nightstand. She turned back, mobile in hand, swiped at the screen, frowned, and scrambled onto her knees.

“What are you doing?”

“I want a picture of my boyfriend when he looks so snuggly and kissable.”  Her nose wrinkled. “I did not just say that, did I?”

“I don’t mind. You regularly scramble my brain too and let me tell you how much easier it is now that I don’t have to try to not gush about how much I love you.”

Jemma blushed as she held her mobile up. “Look sexy.”

He just grinned like an idiot because Jemma was in a t-shirt with no knickers wanting to take a picture of him right after he’d gone down on her. Screw Disneyland, anywhere she happened to be was the happiest place on earth.

After taking a few snaps she sat cross-legged on the bed and, after pulling up his boxers, Fitz sat beside her and looked over her shoulder. She was setting the new photo as her lock screen.

“You don’t see me enough?” he asked.

She turned towards him, face dead serious. “No.”

He kissed her because his heart was doing excited somersaults in his chest and he was completely filled with awe and love.

Jemma’s mobile buzzed in her hand, and with a sigh she broke the kiss to look at it.

“It’s Richard,” she said, unlocking the phone and reading the text message. “He says he’s fine with us working from home the rest of the week, but would like us to come in briefly today to meet with him.”

“What do you think?”

“We probably should. I need to get a few things from the lab and my office, anyway.”

Fitz flopped back on the bed. “Fine. But this morning started off so much better.”

****

At the Sci-Ops building, Fitz opened the main door with his ID card, and ushered Jemma through.

He kept an arm around her as they walked towards Richard’s office, but it didn’t feel as odd to be there as it could have. Everyone they passed just suddenly found themselves very absorbed in whatever they were doing.

Jemma knocked on Richard’s door, right under the name plaque with ‘Richard Head’ engraved on it.

It abruptly annoyed Fitz to no end that his and Jemma’s office had their names scribbled in sharpie on a piece of paper taped up beside the doors.

The door opened. Richard was scowling and barking into his mobile. He waved them in and sat down in his chair as Fitz and Jemma seated themselves.

“Well fix it!” he yelled before ending the call. “Sorry about that,” he said, turning his attention towards them. “The chemistry department is having issues with a bunch of the common dilatants being contaminated with hell knows what. I’ve been arguing with our supplier and it’s just a mess.” He crossed his arms and leaned them on his desk. “Fitz, Simmons, I’m very sorry that you were victims of harassment. There’s a formal letter of apology from those involved on the desk there, and the techs scrubbed Trevor’s laptop.”

Jemma picked up a white legal envelope but made no move to open it. “What’s going to happen to Trevor?”

“As you know, firing an agent is not an easy task, and as this is his first infraction, he’s been given an official letter of reprimand in his permanent file, and he’s been busted back to desk duty for the foreseeable future, working on the raw data other people have gathered.” Richard pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know it’s not enough, but my hands are tied. It’s expensive, training agents.”

Fitz locked eyes with Jemma. There was no way in hell he was ever having anything to do again with the bloke, and Jemma shouldn’t have to either.

Jemma returned her gaze to their boss. “Neither of us will ever work in collaboration with him.”

“Understood,” Richard said. “Let me know immediately if anything else comes to your attention.”

“What about the break-ins of our offices?” Fitz asked.

Richard sighed loudly. “Nothing. No leads. I’m sorry, but you two aren’t going to be here forever. It’s just a matter of time now before you get moved up.”

Fitz nodded once, as did Jemma. She glanced at him again, a question on her face.

“Jemma wouldn’t mind taking a look at the contaminated chemicals,” Fitz said. Jemma smiled.

“Oh thank goodness.” Richard stood, and Fitz and Jemma along with him.

“I won’t be long,” she said, touching his arm.

“I’m going to grab a few things from the lab I need. Meet you there?”

Jemma nodded and started asking Richard rapid-fire questions as they walked one way down the hallway, their steps loud on the tile. When they turned the corner and Jemma was out of sight, Fitz made his way to their lab.

It thankfully looked untouched, and he busied himself with sorting through a drawer for some of the specialty tools he had. He didn’t have any real plans for a project to do over the next several days, he’d probably end up fiddling with a few designs on his tablet, but he knew Jemma had wanted to give Roomie a few upgrades and this was a perfect time to do it.

“Hey,” said a voice behind him and he spun, hexagonal screwdriver raised against any threat. But it was only Sherri.

He dropped the screwdriver on the counter and turned his back to her. “What do you want?”

“Mostly to say I’m sorry.”

“Great. You did, now leave.”

Sherri heaved a sigh. “Fitz, there’s, um, something else.”

“What?”

“Will you at least look at me?” Her tone was a sharp one he was familiar with.

Fitz turned and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah?”

She frowned at him and shook her head. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“That’s a first.”

“Here.” She held out an envelope stuffed full of something at him.

After a second, he snatched it out of Sherri’s fingers. He opened it to find it was all cash. “What is this?”

“I won, remember? Earliest date?”

“Oh, right.”

“That’s the money. Almost four thousand dollars. I’m giving it to you and Simmons.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do. I’m not actually a giant bitch. We had some fun times together, didn’t we?”

He stared at the money a moment longer, stunned. The entire blasted building must have been in the betting pool. He finally looked up at Sherri. She had her arms around herself and appeared miserable.

“Guess so.” Fitz couldn’t think of any now. “We weren’t very compatible.”

“That’s true.” She scuffed her shoe on the floor. “Fitz, can I ask a question?”

“Yeah.”

“When we were together, you and Simmons…you weren’t already…y’know…” Her eyes were pleading.

Fitz didn’t feel very sorry for her. She’d betrayed him and Jemma, but he wasn’t enough of an arse to want Sherri to be in tears. “Nah. It was three weeks later. Though to be honest, you were right. I think I’ve been in love with Jemma since I was sixteen. I shouldn’t have been trying to date anyone else.” Fitz shrugged a shoulder. “Sorry.”

“Cool. Thanks, um, I’m glad you’re together. You make a nice couple.”

He didn’t particularly think they needed Sherri’s approval. “Thanks.”

Jemma walked into the lab. She ignored Sherri. “It was sucrose. Everything was contaminated with sugar, but not from the manufacturer. I think the bottles were opened and resealed.” Jemma walked over to him and kissed him right on the lips, clutching his button-up while he put an arm around her.

Sherri looked like she wanted to say something, but then shook her head and scurried off. Good idea, Fitz thought. Jemma wouldn’t have been as nice as him.

“What did she want?” Jemma asked, finally breaking the kiss.

“She apologized and gave me the money she won in the office pool.” Fitz held the envelope out to Jemma. “Something fishy is going on besides our coworkers being arses. The break-in, now deliberate sabotage. I bet the warmer in here wasn’t unplugged accidently either.”

Jemma nodded absently. “Fitz, there’s four thousand dollars in here.”

“I know.”

She blinked. “I had no idea we were so popular.”

Fitz laughed and kissed her forehead. “We need to think of something fun to do.”

“What are we doing Saturday?”

His hand slid down her back to cup her bum. “It’s not even Friday. And this isn’t an email.”

“Well?”

He put his forehead against hers. “I did have a few ideas, mostly about sensory play.”

They were half-formed thoughts after he’d read a couple articles on the web, but Fitz was entirely sure Jemma would be into it.

She bit her lip. “Like blindfolds and hot wax?”

“There’s no I in there.”

“Fitz!”

“You were close. A blindfold and ice.”

Jemma shivered, but he didn’t think she had a chill. “You have the best ideas.”

“What about stopping for ice cream on the way home?” He let go of her to quickly pull out some other tools and supplies he needed.

“Alright,” she said.

He smiled to himself. “Really?”

“Fuel for later.”

He was so going to get triple chocolate. “You, Dr. Simmons, also have the best ideas.”

****

_Saturday_

Fitz tried not to grin at Jemma’s reflection as they rode the lift of the posh hotel they were in up to the second highest floor. It’d taken some convincing to get Jemma to agree to a night at the Four Seasons, but since they had the extra money from the bet at work, she couldn’t complain about the cost.

He’d wanted to treat her to a special night somewhere nice.

After settling in they’d gone to dinner in the hotel, and were now headed back to their room, where Fitz had a surprise waiting for her.

“I don’t know if I’ve said it yet, but you look fantastic.” She was in an elegant black dress, with a slit up one leg and a daring neckline that he was certain meant she couldn’t have a bra on.

“Only twenty times.” She smiled at him in the mirror.

“Have I told you how much better that dress would be crumpled on the floor?”

Jemma broke out into laughter and put her arms around him. “You’re a dear man.”

He looked into her face, very glad he was the reason for her joy. He slid an arm around her, then watched his reflection as he grabbed her rear. Jemma made a pleased sound and tucked herself against him, her face pressed against his neck. Fitz had no idea how he’d gotten so lucky and wished he could go back in time and cuff his younger self on the back of his head and tell him not to waste so much time.

He’d also tell himself not to feel so bad about that first wet dream about Jemma. He hadn’t been able to talk to her for three days and she’d been mad. It hadn’t even been that good a dream, just her in his dorm bed with her jumper still on and telling him off about not getting something right in their homework, and certainly nothing like the reality.

The lift doors opened, and he offered her his elbow, and she slipped her hand into the crook of it. The room wasn’t far down the hallway, and Jemma dropped his arm to pull the key card out and open the door.

She walked in and gasped. “Fitz, you didn’t!”

“We’re celebrating, of course I did.” He made sure the door was secure as Jemma cooed over the bottle of champagne in its bucket of ice.

He walked over to her, his stomach doing a flip. He was supposed to seduce her, somehow, with ice.

Not that Jemma needed a lot of seduction, really. More being pointed in the right direction and then she’d figure it out herself, but he was going to try because she deserved to be seduced. Taking a page from her book, Fitz had everything prepared. He’d gotten the glass dildo out of its box, brought lube, and had both stashed in easy reach of the bed.

“It’s looks very nice,” Jemma said, having picked up the bottle so she could read the label. “Not that I have a wide knowledge of champagne.”

He put his hands over hers and guided her to put the bottle down on the table. She did, looking at him quizzically. He snagged a cube of ice between his fingers and held it up, inspecting it. “I don’t fancy any bubbly right now.”

Jemma’s breath caught in a very satisfying way.

Her eyes were dark as she caught his gaze, turned around, and pulled the dress from her shoulders. It caught briefly around her hips before cascading to the floor, leaving her without a stitch on.

Bloody hell, she’d been starkers under it the entire time they’d been at dinner. Thinking became a great deal more difficult as it felt like his every blood cell in his body was heading for his cock. He should have predicted she’d be three steps ahead of him.

His hand was cold.

Ah, right, ice.

He stepped forward and bent to kiss the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Jemma moaned softly, and her entire body rolled. He put an arm around her and cupped her breast, pinching the nipple. She moaned louder and arched into his touch.

Fitz brought the ice cube to her nape, and she whimpered, her head falling forward. Continuing to kiss her, he dragged the ice down her spine.

Her moan was loud.

When the ice reached the base of her spine, he let go of her and lifted the ice to his lips, sucking on it while Jemma turned to face him.

He tossed the cube away—the hotel could deal with a bit of wet rug—and leaned in to kiss her with chilled lips. Jemma moaned, but when he reached for him, he stepped back. “Bed,” he said hoarsely, as he grabbed the ice bucket off the table.

Her lower lip crept out, but then her eyes fixed on the front of his jacket. She gave him a cheeky smile as she grabbed a hold of his tie and gave him a little tug. What kind of idiot would he be if he didn’t follow her?

Jemma led them to the bed with its puffy white comforter and pulled him to the edge and sat down. She moved to lay down on the bed and crooked a finger at him. “Come on, Fitzy, don’t keep me waiting.”

He was tempted to drop the ice bucket and pounce on her, but then it would just be Tuesday morning all over again. Maybe he should stick his prick in the ice bucket.

What he really should have done was brought the cock ring. Jemma being in love with him was such a turn on he didn’t have a whole lot of control.

He took a deep breath. He could do this without acting like a randy idiot. He crawled onto the bed, set the ice bucket where he could reach it, but where it would hopefully not tip over, and lay down facing Jemma, who was on her side, head propped on one hand, and using the other to play with her tit.

The instant he was in position, her hand abandoned her breast and went for his trousers. He caught her wrist, even as his cock jerked in anticipation of her touch.

“Fitz,” she said. “Really.”

“Let me have some fun first, you get in my pants right now and I’m liable to go off before we really get started.”

“What?” She frowned. “You haven’t particularly been having a problem with premature ejaculation before now.”

“Christ.” He rolled on his back and put his arm over his eyes. “Well, saying that certainly helps.”

“I’m trying to be serious.” She sounded exasperated. “You might have noticed I enjoy having my hands on you. What’s different now?”

“Nothing…except, everything.” He sighed and risked peeking at her. Which might have been a mistake because she was still playing with her tit but now she looked cross. His cock loudly suggested it be let out as it tested the stitching of his trousers.

“That was not an answer.”

“Jemma.” He put his hand on her hip and gazed into her face. “You love me. Knowing that is like having petrol poured on my desire for you. I’ll get better, it’s all still very new right now.”

Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ of shock, then she whimpered, grabbed his hand, and pushed it between her thighs. She was wet as hell and her clit was firm against his fingers. Her grip on his arm was fierce as she held him still and humped against his hand. Her eyes closed as her legs quivered. “Oh, Fitz,” she whispered before coming with a groan and even more of her cream covered his fingers.

“Fuck, Jemma.”

She sagged against the bed, grinning. “I like you loving me too.”

His heart was so full he was surprised it could still beat as fast as it was.

He kicked off his shoes and reluctantly sat up on his knees. “On your back.” His cock was obscenely tenting out the front of his trousers, and Jemma eyed it before rolling over as he’d asked.

Shuffling to the edge of the bed, he retrieved the dildo and lube, and tugged the ice bucket closer as he ensconced himself beside Jemma.

“I’m going to be using this on you.” He showed her the dildo with its pretty blue ridges. “Though I thought it’d be more work to get you off.”

She laughed and spread her legs further apart.

Putting the dildo in the ice bucket, he picked up a cube and bent over her, running it between her breasts.

She wiggled. “It’s cold.”

“Astute observation. Do you want to write that one down? Ice is cold.”

Jemma rolled her eyes, and he grinned.

Tilting his head, Fitz slid the cube over to her nipple, swirling it around the tip and making her gasp. That was more like it. As he directed the cube to the other side, he leaned down and sucked her chilled nipple into his mouth.

Jemma moaned.

He switched sides, and she clutched at his shoulders while he diligently teased the hard point of her breast. Giving her a brief respite, he switched the hand the cube was in while he nuzzled and laved her tits.

There was no way he’d every get used to having free access to them. Sometimes he wanted to just go put a hand down her shirt and hold one because he could. Though Jemma would be unimpressed if she was in the middle of doing something.

Wait, he could have her sit on his lap when they watched the telly and casually cup one. Brilliant plan. Pleased with himself, he braced a hand and nuzzled her tits, and Jemma laughed. He looked up at her. “What?”

“I love all the happy little noises you make when your face is in my breasts. It’s very cute.”

“I make noises?” He couldn’t recall making any.

“I love them. Don’t stop. I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I didn’t know I was making them in the first place. Probably not going to stop now.” He kissed her chest. “I want to have you making noise.” Fitz sat back.

Slowly, he trailed the ice down her belly, making her flinch. When he reached her mons, he swirled the half-melted cube over her skin, and her hips raised. He traced it carefully over her folds and pressed it to her clit, making her squirm.

“Cold!”

“Another brilliant observation.”

“I’m going to shove that ice up your arse.”

Grinning, he slid the remains of the cube down to press against her arsehole. Jemma gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

“Can’t, it’s all gone.” Fitz didn’t know if she looked incensed or disappointed as he grabbed the lube and retrieved the dildo from the ice bucket. “Ready?”

She nodded, and he lubed the hard and very cold dildo, and pressed the tip to her opening.

“Oh,” she breathed. He slid it partway in and Jemma squeaked and pushed herself up on her elbows. “Cold! And don’t say anything.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“You know what I’d say if I wanted that.”

He nodded and looked down as he pressed the rest of the dildo into her. “Fuck that looks sexy, Jemma. Your legs open, cunt wet and stuffed full of a toy. Tell me how does it feel?” He fucked her with it, adjusting the angle to the one she liked best.

Jemma mewled. “Wonderful. Hard, the ridges are amazing.”

“Cold?”

“You have no idea.”

He worked her faster, his cock was becoming very put out over not being involved. Pausing, he shrugged off his suit jacket. Jemma sat up further and grabbed his tie again.

“Don’t stop,” she hissed. His cock twitched and shifted in his trousers, finding the zipper.

“Let me adjust my prick.”

She nodded, once, and he moved it before returning both hands to her pussy and working her hard and fast. Jemma didn’t let go of his tie, and when she climaxed, she pulled him down on top of her, kissing him frantically.

Rolling him over, she straddled him, pulled the dildo out and tossed it to the side, and attacked his trousers, getting them open far enough to get his cock out.

“Poor thing looks neglected,” she said, patting the head gently before aiming him for her opening and sliding down onto him.

Her pussy was freezing. “Cold!” he gasped.

“Told you. But I assume friction and body heat will make short work of that.”

“I’m sure it will.”

With a teasing smile, she lifted herself up slowly before dropping back down at the same pace.

“Jemma!”

“Something wrong?”

The temperature was having no effect on his libido and he wanted her now. Growling in frustration, he  sat up, clamped his arms around her, and rolled her onto her back. She slipped off his cock, but he easily rammed himself back into her and happily jackhammered into her.

Jemma whimpered. She still had a hold of his tie and yanked his mouth to hers. It was a sloppy kiss, mouths mashed together. Jemma tasted of everything he’d ever wanted.

Her body shivered, and she came again, her now-warm pussy milking his cock.

“Fitz,” she moaned, pulling at his tie. “Come on my tits.”

“Right.”

He pulled out of her and scooted to kneel beside her again. His cock shone from her cream, and she eagerly reached for him. Her hand was blissfully tight around him and she was turned just enough that the head was bumping into her chest. It was a pretty sight, his prick against her tit.

Fitz groaned as his sac drew up. “Oh, Jems,” he whispered.

“I love you,” she said, and that was it. His hips stuttered as he came, his release marking her tits in white lines.

She kept stroking his cock until he sat back on his heels, trying to catch his breath. “I love you too, and bloody fuck you look good when you’ve just been fucked.”

Jemma grinned. “Thank you, Fitz. That was a lot of fun.”

He grunted and flopped onto the bed, upending the ice bucket and spilling the water in it. “Shite. I was trying not to do that.”

Jemma got up and shooed him off the end of the bed so she could pull the quilt off. He rescued the dildo before it went on the floor, and picked up the bottle of lube and put it away before going to the loo to wash the toy and clean himself. Jemma joined him after a moment, accepting a warm wash rag from him.

“It’s not bad,” she said. “I think if we put a towel down it’ll be fine to lay on.”

Fitz sighed. He knew which side of the bed he’d be sleeping on, and it was totally worth it.

****

_Sunday_

They sat at the table with the unopened bottle of champagne to eat their breakfast. Room service was one of the best inventions of mankind.

Fitz worked on a stack of fluffy pancakes with blueberry syrup with Jemma ate something that he was pretty sure was an omelette, but that seemed to have more veggies than egg.

Jemma was reading something on her mobile, but he wasn’t quite awake yet and was mostly chewing and staring at her. She made a face.

“Something wrong?”

“We probably have to go back to work tomorrow.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, and I miss being in a lab. There’s only so much we can do at home.”

“Too bad we can’t bring the lab with us.”

Jemma’s smile was sunny. “That’d be perfect.”

“It’s going to take me a while to feel comfortable there again. First our offices, now this.”

Jemma poked at a piece of cantaloupe. “Yes. We need to continue to have successes, so we can move up levels and be assigned to a different facility.”

“We will. There’s the dendrotoxin thing you’re working on, and I believe I can create a delivery—”

“—mechanism, yes, but it needs to be familiar in an agent’s—”

“—hand. What about a firearm?”

She lit up. “Fitz, you’re on to something. I’ll continue researching and looking at micro dosing of the toxin. If you can do some initial design work on a rifle?”

He nodded. “Sounds fun.”

“And then we can work on the budget proposal together.”

“Sounds less fun.”

“I’ll pick a tile when we get home and then you can worry about that instead of budgets.”

“Why wait?” His fork clattered against his plate as he set it down. Jemma lit up, and he had to lean in and peck her lips before going to retrieve the Scrabble bag. He returned with it and sat down, weighing it in his hand. “Not many left.”

“Six.”

“I don’t know how we haven’t picked the blank one yet.”

“I know just what I’m going to pick if I do, but it’s a secret.” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger and he tried to think of anything but what she could mean.

“Secret’s good. Um, if we dropped the the bag now we would have a decent chance of picking up all the tiles before Roomie got a hold of any.” He loosened the laces.

“They did make quite a mess, but I don’t think I’ve ever been happier that something spilled.” She frowned. “Poor Roomie must be quite bored without us making messes for him to clean.”

“We’ll be home soon,” Fitz said, holding the bag out to her. Jemma reached for it, and he dropped his hand down.

“Fitz!” She tried again, and he lifted it up, making her stand and grab his wrist before she wiggled her fingers into the bag. She pulled out a tile and frowned. “Not the blank one.”

Jemma held it out to him. It was the letter: **L**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think this letter is a little harder to guess ;-) 
> 
> If last week you found yourself wishing that Jemma's little fantasy about spanking would come true, Agent of Ship has a treat for you! She wrote this months ago (way before the last chapter was done) (and OMG there's artwork!) but it still ended up being pretty much what Jemma's thinking about! If you haven't read it I really suggest [ An Unlikely Scenario. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18075170)


	23. L

_Tuesday_

“I don’t want to get up,” Jemma said. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut as she pressed her face against Fitz’s neck. He made a noise that might have been commiseration or could just have been a sigh. Her legs were refusing to move, enough though she was sweaty and a little sticky. She was sprawled on top of Fitz, her pussy still pleasantly pulsing in the aftermath of her orgasm. The only sign he wasn’t asleep was his thumb lightly brushing the skin of her back.

His cock was still in her, and she didn’t want to lose that feeling of connection.

If only she didn’t need to shower and get ready for work. She lifted her head and kissed his cheek. Fitz turned towards her with a smile. “I love you, Jemma.” The light through the blinds was on his face, and his blue eyes were breathtaking.

“Love you too,” she said, giving up on moving and dropping her head back down.

“Can we just stay here all day?”

“That’d be nice.”

There was a pause, and Fitz switched petting her hair. “I guess yesterday wasn’t so bad.”

It hadn’t been. Their coworkers were all avoiding them like the plague. Jemma had been tasked with going through someone else’s failed experiment, trying to figure out the issue. She hadn’t, yet, and was beining to think that it might be another case of sabotage. Whoever was screwing with the bio department was very good at what they did, and Jemma had suggested to Richard he might want to see if anyone was feuding between departments.

The weekend at the Four Seasons had been much more enjoyable and had given her an idea for the next letter.

“Fitz,” she said, and he nodded at the same time his cock twitched inside her. Her mind was momentarily derailed. How long would it take him to get hard again? She pushed herself up on one hand and grabbed his wrist with the other, putting his palm over her breast. He immediately found her nipple and tugged.

Her back arched.

“Fitz,” she tried again. She really needed to tell him her idea because he’d have to do some work to make her fantasy a reality.

His mouth found hers instead, and he sucked on her bottom lip as his fingers left her hair to glide down her back and grab her bum. His prick was absolutely working its way back to full mast.

“Fitz,” she gasped, breaking the kiss.

He pouted. “What?” he groused.  “And come back here, I’m not done with you.” It took her a second to parse out his words because his accent had become ridiculously thick, and she’d accuse him of doing it on purpose to make her laugh, except that his pupils were blown wide with lust and Jemma didn’t think he was attempting to be funny.

“For Saturday, I know what I want.”

“Aye?”

She bit her lip to hold in a giggle. “Do you remember the lifts at the hotel?”

Fitz stopped trying to kiss her, even though he swiveled his hips and pushed his renewed erection up into her. “I remember. Mirrors.”

“That’s right. I want L to be lift. I want to fuck you in one.”

“I want to fuck you right now.” He rolled them over and nuzzled her tits as he thrust roughly into her.

Jemma moaned. “Yes, lovely.” She was primed, and it wasn’t going to take her long to come again. Her belly was already tightening. “But you’ll need to invent something, a way to stop the lift in its tracks, disable security cameras and the emergency phone, as well as ensure the car will ignore the recall commands.”

“I’ll do it after I fuck you.”

“Alright.” She was good with that.

****

_(Later On) Tuesday_

Jemma crossed her legs and frowned at the spreadsheet on her laptop. Fitz was happily singing along to The Proclaimers as he started to pull together a first try at the device for the lift. It’d been an easy sell to their boss. Fitz had said he could use existing parts for the prototype, and had described in detail the many times that agents would find such a device useful.

The famed Mockingbird or whoever never needed to know that the tiny box that saved her life was invented so Jemma could get it on with her boyfriend in the lift of a fancy hotel.

She’d already booked the same room for Saturday night at the Four Seasons. It was going to be so much fun.

What wasn’t fun was the report she was pulling together. Radiation had denatured the bacteria in the failed experiment. Radiation that’d been deliberately applied. The only natural source would be a massive solar flare, but those couldn’t sneak by all other forms of detection to only fry a single experiment. Boston’s power grid would have gone up in sparks.

They needed to find the arse responsible.

Speaking of arses, the chip Fitz had designed to protect cell phones from arses like Trevor needed to be shown to be effective. Or that was what she was telling herself, also that Fitz’s programs to copy and crack mobiles were far superior to anything else currently available. A real-world example would help with that.

Fitz had suggested using old mobiles, one with and one without the chip, as a demonstration, but while Jemma agreed that’d be the most controlled way to show it, she wanted to test the programs first.

She sighed and rubbed at her face. Oh, alright, she wanted to get even.

Nothing as heinous at what had been done to her and Fitz, of course, but maybe an embarrassing childhood photo or the like. Just enough to scare Trevor into thinking all his deep, dark secrets were about to come out. Maybe he spent hundreds on dollars a month on Candy Crush or had watched the second Ace Ventura movie two-hundred times.

She told her laptop to print her report on the ruined experiment, and the printer in the corner hummed to life.

Standing, Jemma went over and pecked Fitz on the cheek, but he was too focused his work to do more than lean towards her. She continued out of the lab into the hallway, in no real rush to get to Richard’s office.

She whished she’d walked faster when she saw Milton heading for her. It’d probably be too obviously rude if she took off running for the woman’s bathroom.

“Hey,” he said, falling into step beside her.

“Milton.”

“Um, you were late to work this morning.”

He wasn’t wrong. The second round of lovemaking had meant they were more than thirty minutes behind schedule. Oh darn. “I was,” Jemma said, taking pains to sound extra cheerful. “Tuesday mornings are sex with the boyfriend mornings, and we got a little carried away.”

Milton made a face. “TMI.”

“Really? Because I could have sworn you were egging on Trevor to show everyone photos and videos of Fitz and me getting it on. I figured you just wanted to know.”

Milton deflated. “Jemma, god, I’m sorry, alright?”

They were in the open area with cubicles now, and Jemma stopped in front of the one with Trevor’s name taped to it. He was nowhere to be seen, thankfully.

She crossed her arms. “Milton, it is not okay. It will never be okay. Do you have a point in talking to me? Because unless we’re forced to, I would like never to have anything to do with you again.”

“I was wondering—” He swallowed hard. “She, Sherri, asked Fitz if he was, uh—”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t cheating on you. That should be obvious.”

“Obvious?” His brow furrowed.

“Yes, very obvious. For what conceivable reason would I continue to lie there, bored out of my skull, while you thrust for a couple of minutes if I had a better option?” Why had she ever thought that was an acceptable option in the first place?

Milton’s face turned red. “Fitz? He’s that much better?”

Jemma blinked, then pointed to herself. “I was late for work.” Milton knew she was never late for anything.

“Yeah, um—”

“Are you going to leave, or do you want me to talk about exactly how good Fitz is with his hands?”

Milton turned and scurried away, hunched over like a dog with its tail between his legs. Jemma let out a long sigh. Thank goodness, if that hadn’t worked, she would have had to say something about penis size. Men could be so sensitive.

She grinned and bit her lip as she scanned the office. Trevor was still missing, and as was the new normal, everyone was very busy ignoring her. Her eyes dropped to Trevor’s desk. It was a mess. And was that his password taped to a pot of fake succulents? He must have failed his field assessment worse than she had.

There were papers, food wrappers, and even clothing scattered over his desk. How did he survive in this mess?

But no mobile. He must have it with him. Damn it.

She took a step back, nearly stumbling over Trevor’s desk chair. Her head swiveled around, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to her at all. She grabbed the back of the chair and pushed it towards the desk. Trevor’s hoodie was hanging on the back.

One side was drooping lower than the other like it was weighted down. Jemma ducked, stuck her hand in the pocket, and pulled out Trevor’s mobile. She squealed very quietly to herself. Yes! He was going to know how it felt to be humiliated.

She put it in the pocket of her trousers and quickly strode to Richard’s office. The door opened just as she got there, and Trevor walked out.

His eyes widened when he saw her, but he didn’t make eye contact or say anything as he brushed passed her. She could barely contain her grin. He was going to be so surprised when the whole office knew his Starbuck’s order.

“Simmons?” Richard said.

“Report on the failed experiment. I am convinced it’s deliberate sabotage.” She handed him the papers.

Richard glanced at them and rubbed his forehead. “Thank you. Keep a close lookout. Whoever is doing this is slippery.”

Jemma nodded and left. She couldn’t fathom who’d be deliberately destroying work. Even if she rolled her eyes at her coworkers, they were all SHIELD agents that had made it through the Academy. The Boston office was low level and relatively low security, but it wasn’t a civilian facility either. You didn’t walk in off the street and get a job. The only motivation she could imagine was jealousy. Someone’s career tanking and that person getting revenge the only way they could. It was only a matter of time before they made a mistake and were caught.

The unusual weight of Trevor’s phone in her pocket put a bounce in her step as she walked back to the lab. She passed Molly in the hallway, and the other woman gave a tentative smile. Jemma smiled back. Brunch was not happening anytime soon, maybe never again, but she was too excited about her subterfuge with the mobile to worry about Molly or her boyfriend.

“Do you want to see the photos from the resort I’m going to?” Molly asked brightly as Jemma hurried along.

“Later,” Jemma called over her shoulder.

In the lab, she walked right towards Fitz. “Fitz! I need you right now.”

The tools he was holding clattered to the counter, and he pushed the magnifiers he had on up to his forehead. “Sure, um, office? The loo again?”

“What?” She wrinkled her nose, but then figured out Fitz had misinterpreted her words and her face burned. “That’s not. Damn it, now I’m thinking about—” Jemma sighed. They’d already gone at each other twice and he was willing as soon as she snapped her fingers. “Maybe later.” She pulled the mobile out of her pocket and held it out to him. “I snagged Trevor’s phone. Copy it.”

Fitz grinned wolfishly. “You should have led with that. Hand it over. This will only take me a few seconds.”

He almost ran to his laptop, hitting a key to clear the screensaver of pictures of her and him together. He’d had the same folder of pictures of them as his screensaver for a long time, though there were new ones now. Even one of them at the hotel. He’d always liked seeing them together. Oh. Of course he would. They’d been in love for so much longer than they’d known.

Come to think of it, most of her wallpapers and screensavers had been pictures of Fitz for a very long time as well. She took her own mobile out to look at the photo of him grinning after blowing her mind.  She liked this one, she’d known she loved him when she took it and that he loved her.

“Sorry,” Fitz said. “It’s taking longer than I suspected. He’s got the Library of Congress on this thing.” His hand curled around her arm. “Jemma? Is everything ok?”

She looked up into his sweetly concerned eyes. “I love you.”

He pulled her into a hug, and she held him tight. “I love you too.” They could never spend enough time like this, safe in each other’s arms. Or working side-by-side. And now they’d share a life. She sniffled, not wanting to cry at work, but she was so full of love that it was trying to get out.

Fitz moved so their foreheads were touching. “It’s all overwhelming, isn’t it?” he said. “You’ve always been my center, but now you know that.”

“Oh, Fitz.”

His laptop beeped, and they grinned at the interruption.

“Done,” Fitz said, unhooked the phone. “Now I start the data hack.”

“How should we return the mobile?”

Fitz pulled the magnifiers off his head and put them on a counter. He looked smug. “I thought I’d go make us a nice cuppa, and maybe sit down on the sofa while I’m waiting and oops, drop the phone right down behind it.”

She giggled and swatted his rear as he pulled his cardigan around himself and stashed the mobile up his sleeve.

Jemma returned to her laptop and continued to work, trying to find possible sources for the radioactive material used to decimate the experiment. She didn’t have much luck. After widening her supplier search radius twice, she was surprised by a popup appearing on the screen. It was a string of numbers and letters, with two blank spaces at the end. It took her only a few seconds to realize she was looking at a coded message that was the formula for a fairly common organic compound—vitamin B12—and she completed the last two spaces easily.

The code disappeared, and a simple chat window opened.

**NF: That didn’t take long.**

**J: To who am I speaking?**

**NF: The director.**

Jemma blinked. That was highly unusual.

**J: How do I know it’s you?**

**NF: I just inserted a computer program onto your SHIELD secured laptop, and you want to make sure I’m not going to ask you for prepaid gift cards?**

**J: Yes**

**NF: Hang on**

Jemma frowned at her screen, only looking up when Fitz returned, mugs in hand.

“That was easy,” he said, handing her one. “There wasn’t anyone else in there.”

“I hope somebody steps on it before Trevor find his mobile.”

He blew to cool his drink. “I wouldn’t be averse to that either. What are you doing?” He gestured at the screen.

“I was on my computer when the box popped up. The first bit was an encoded message where I needed to complete a vitamin B12 molecule.”

“Elementary for you.”

“I know. If this is Director Fury, I’d expect a harder puzzle.”

**NF: I heard that.**

**J: Eavesdropping is rude.**

There was no reply, just a string of numbers. “What does that mean?” she asked Fitz, hoping it was her laptop microphone Fury was listening through and not some hidden camera.

Fitz glared at the code but then relaxed. “It’s a series of coordinates. A non-standard SHIELD variant.” He quickly wrote down the numbers and unjumbled them. “There’s this facility, the Academy, our flat here in Boston, I think that’s where our car is parked, and a string of numbers that I believe coordinates to Fury’s office.”

**NF: It does. So, science tots, do you have any project ideas?**

Jemma shared a look with Fitz and mouthed ‘dendrotoxin’? He nodded, one arm around himself as he drank his tea with the other hand.

**J: We have the preliminary idea for a non-lethal weapon. We want to design and build a highly effective test model, though funding is tight.**

**NF: Don’t worry, no problems. This is now your assignment. Do not tell your boss. This is a spy organization, even if a few people can’t seem to figure that out.**

**J: Yes, sir**. She sipped her tea.

**NF: Good, I’m sending you the link in an email to set up a budget outside of the usual channels. Details to follow. This program will now self-destruct.**

The box disappeared from the screen.

“That was weird,” Fitz said, glaring at her computer. “It was weird, right?”

“Really. If I click on the link and get rickrolled, I am going to be so cross.” She leaned against the counter and looked at Fitz. “What do you think is going on?”

“No idea, but now I need to finish the device to halt the lift even faster because I should start on some design ideas.” He eyed the holotable while a smile played over his lips.

She grinned. “This is exciting, isn’t it?”

“It is!” He pecked her lips and hurried back to where he was working on the device, leaving his empty mug beside the computer.

Jemma did not feel any guilt whatsoever as she finished her tea while watching his trousers pull tight over his bum as Fitz bent over. Not one iota.

****

_Saturday_

Jemma couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Fitz. He hadn’t shaved the entire week, being too engrossed in both of his new projects to think about it, and the beginnings of a beard he was working on were really doing something for her.

He should look unkempt being scruffy. Instead, it made her want to drop her knickers. If she’d been wearing any.

After last week, Fitz had slid his hand under her navy dress on their way down from the room, making an absolutely delighted sound when he’d encountered nothing but bare skin.

The dress she’d chosen was conservative at first glance, having a high collar, three-quarter length sleeves, and a pleated skirt that fell to her knees, but it had a built-in bra and only a few buttons on the front. She could be mostly naked in less than fifteen seconds, which she knew because she’d practiced a few times at home.

Fitz was in a gray suit, white shirt, and blue tie. He kept glancing out of the corner of his eye at her as they walked back to the hotel and smiling.

When they entered, he put a hand on her lower back to guide her towards the lifts. The feel of his palm burned even through her dress. Her nipples tightened, and her heart hammered as Fitz pressed the up arrow beside the doors to the lift. She was very glad no one else was waiting with them. Her lust had to be a flashing neon sign at this point.

Jemma had no idea how Fitz managed to look so cool. He seemed relaxed and comfortable, which wasn’t fair. He stepped behind Jemma and put his hands on both her hips, his fingers digging in. His breath tickled her neck as he leaned close to her ear. “How are you, Jems?”

“I’m good.”

He chuckled. “I was hoping for wet.” His voice was soft and low, making her tremble. “Because I’m already hard as nails for you,” he whispered into her ear, his stubble brushing her cheek. “All I want to do is stick my aching prick into your sweet cunt. Fuck you up against the wall until I fill you up. You’re such a naughty girl with no knickers. I could barely eat at that posh restaurant because I was so busy thinking about your pussy.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “Please.”

Fitz’s fingers inched her skirt up higher. “I could fuck you with my fingers right here. No one would see. I’d make you feel so good—”

The lift door opened onto an empty car, much to Jemma’s relief. She grabbed Fitz’s tie and yanked him into the lift. Spinning, she faced him as he collided with her and pressed her back against the wall. He hadn’t been lying, his cock was hard as he ground against her.

Giggling, Jemma wiggled a hand free to smash the button for the third floor, which should actually be the second. Silly Americans.

Fitz groaned as the car started to rise, and pulled a small box from his coat pocket. Mouthing her neck, he jammed his finger down onto one of the buttons on it.

The lift jerked to a stop, and Fitz pushed back to give her a cocky grin. “I’m good.” The box went back into his pocket.

“I know.” She attacked the front of his trousers, freeing his prick, though Fitz’s hands then guided her to her own buttons. He knelt, reaching for her skirt, but Jemma’s practice paid off as she shrugged the dress off her shoulders and it slid down to her feet before Fitz could do more than grab the hem.

He didn’t seem bothered. He grasped Jemma’s leg behind the knee and placed it over his shoulder before leaning in to flick his tongue over her folds. He moaned. “You’re sopping,” he said, more to her pussy than her. “I love you being wet for me.” His gaze flicked up to her face. “I can still hardly believe you want me.”

Jemma tugged at his hair. “Lick later,” she panted. “In now.”

“I want to make you come,” he said, returning to laving her clit. She glanced up at the mirror on the front wall of the lift.

Heavens.

That was her, naked with her leg over her boyfriend’s shoulder and being eaten out. Her pussy pulsed, and she mewled.

“Should I—” Fitz started, but this time she pushed his face towards her sex.

“More,” she gasped. This wasn’t going to take long. Fitz looked too good for words in his suit, and he was licking her frantically. She spurred him on by digging her heel into his back.

The woman in the mirror looked flushed, her breasts heavy and nipples tight, obviously enjoying what the man between her legs was doing.

Jemma’s eyes slid closed as Fitz pressed two fingers into her.

“Fuck my face,” he said. “I want to feel you come. My cock’s aching and I can’t fucking wait much longer.”

Her hips rolled, but it only took another few seconds before she came. “Shite,” she gasped, nearly falling as her legs became boneless and pleasure rocketed through her.

Fitz stood and caught her around the waist, steadying her. Jemma hooked her leg over his hip, and it only took a hitch of his pelvis for him to ram his cock into her.

He paused to tuck her hair behind her ear tenderly and she kissed him, moaning at how he tasted of her mixed with him. “How do we look?” he asked, thrusting slowly and laughing when she groaned.

Jemma tore her eyes away from his beloved face to watch them in the mirror. The woman she saw looked flushed and wanton and in love as she was made love to by a man who had eyes for nothing except her.

She curled her fingers into the hair on the back of his head, watching her mirror-counterpart make the same caring motion. “We look like we’re in love,” she whispered.

Fitz groaned and braced his hands beside her shoulders as he pressed his face to her neck. His ragged breathing tickled against her skin.

“Tell me again, Jemma,” he said. “Please.”

It took her a second to figure out what he meant. “I love you, Fitz.”

His pistoned into her, rough noises rummbling in his chest. Watching in the mirror, she pushed his trousers and boxers further down and lifted the tails of his shirt and coat, embracing him with the fabric in her fists. She watched his arse as he thrust wildly into her, the sight of his muscles flexing and clenching nearly as enjoyable as the actual slide of his cock.

She fists tightened on the fabric in her hands. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Fitz grunted and heaved a last time into her. “I love you too,” he said, voice hoarse. The pulsing of his cock deep inside her was its own kind of ecstasy. He looked up into her face. “I should have—”

“That was amazing, Fitz!” she enthused, knowing he was going to start apologizing that she hadn’t come a second time. “Your device worked precisely as planned. And this was entirely my fantasy, with the mirror and everything. I’d say I’d visualize it endless when I masturbated, but hopefully those times will be much further in between now. I’ve gotten entirely used to you being right beside me and ready to go.”

Fitz pushed back a tiny bit, enough to hold up his hand, though he kept their lower halves together. She didn’t want him to pull out either. He wiggled his middle two fingers at her, his face serious. “I’d like to say, if you do masturbate, you should always use these fingers.”

“Why?” She pursed her lips. He knew that wasn’t how she got herself off.  

Fitz grinned. “Because they’re mine.”

“Fitz!” She laughed and hugged him tightly.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You are not the least bit wrong.”

****

_Sunday_

Fitz was determinedly working through a huge stack of blueberry pancakes while she munched on her yogurt and granola.

He kept glancing up and smiling at her, and then she’d have to smile. Their feet were holding each other under the small table in their hotel room. Their completely free hotel room.

After their tryst in the lift, she’d slipped her dress back on and helped Fitz look a little less like he’d just been shagging her like there was no tomorrow. There really was no helping what her fingers had done to his hair. It’d been sticking up in all directions. Fitz had pressed a second button, and the lift returned to life, though it went down instead of up.

The doors had opened to a group of hotel staff. The manager had apologized profusely and repeatedly told them that the lift had just been inspected and the communication system had been in working order.

Jemma had said it was fine and they hadn’t been stuck very long, but the manager had insisted on not charging them for their room. She’d kept her mouth closed after that, though she and Fitz had laughed like crazy when they got back to the room.

Currently, Fitz was focused on his preliminary mock-ups of firing mechanisms for the projectile of their non-lethal weapon. He’d already ordered material from the allowance Fury had given them. It was a lot of money. Richard thought they were using supplies from another SHIELD facility and wasn’t breathing down their necks, which was nice, for a change.

“How’s the phone-crack coming along? she asked.

Fitz glanced up from his tablet. “It’s much more difficult than expected. I have my desktop at home working on it.”

“The sooner I can show Trev’s an idiot that has only two Nickleback songs as his playlist, the better.”

“That’s my bloodthirsty hellion,” Fitz said, spearing an errant blueberry and holding his fork out towards her. She retaliated by doing the same with a piece of cantaloupe. His gaze locked with hers and they both leaned forward and sucked the fruit off each other’s utensils.

She was so captivated by the morning light making his eyes pop blue she almost forgot to eat.

“What time do we have to check out?” he asked after she slowly pulled her fork from between his lips.

“Too soon.”

“Damn.”

“You could pick a letter?”

He nodded, and she retrieved the Scrabble bag. If he got the blank tile, she was going to be so cross.

Fitz speared another piece of cantaloupe and ate it while he shook the bag and reached in for a tile. He held it up like a prize, looking delighted. “I already know,” he said. It was the letter: **O**.


	24. O

_Monday_

The partially completed schematics for his current version of the non-lethal weapon, the night-night gun if he got his way, were magnified and exploded on the holotable’s display.

Fitz wasn’t actually looking at any of it at the minute. He was too busy admiring Jemma’s bum as she bent over a bench to pipet dendrotoxin into test tubes. His brain was still whirling with ideas to try, but it was in the background. His eyes caressed her curves.

This was everything he’d ever wanted. Interesting and challenging work that would make a difference and save lives, and his Jemma right there with him. There was going to be stir fry for dinner, and they were planning on watching a new Syfy movie that night while sharing a bottle of wine.

Jemma would get giggly, and then fall asleep and snore on his shoulder before the final credits rolled. Which was what would have happened before they were a couple, but now he’d direct her to his bed, take her clothes off, and sleep with her wrapped in his arm. Then it’d be Tuesday morning, and Jemma would be happy to wake up naked with him.

Fitz grinned and shelved those thoughts. He had work to do first, and this hex bolt was not going to size itself.

He still snuck one more peek at his favorite backside in the world.

****

_Wednesday Night_

Fitz pushed his tablet away. The words and numbers were starting to swim in front of his eyes. He should check his computer and make sure the bloody program to crack the phone hadn’t crashed again, but he just wanted to look at Jemma. Like always.

From where he was sitting on the floor beside the coffee table, he had a good view of her perched on the couch, her legs crossed and a book open in her lap. She had the eraser of the pencil she was holding caught between her teeth, and the image was almost unbearably erotic.

Which probably said more about him than her. Ever since he’d drawn the O tile, he’d decided on oral sex. Simultaneous oral sex. Good ole’ sixty-nine. A lot more of his brain power had gone to imagining it over and over the last couple of days instead of being used for their current project. He knew he wanted her on top. Him on top was out of the question, he’d accidently choke her or something, side by side was fine, but he wanted her sitting on his face if he was being honest. He’d make her come and come and come. If he got off, it’d just be a nice bonus.

Jemma sitting there, in pajama pants and a camisole, studying a textbook, brought back a thousand fond memories of them in the dorms doing exactly this. His younger self would have keeled over and expired on the spot to know that his future would be intertwined with hers to this degree, and involve plans for smushing his face into her pussy.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Everything okay?”

He nodded.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Saturday plans.”

 Jemma set her book aside. “Oh? Would you like to share?”

“O is oral sex. Sixty-nine. I want you riding my face and coming while my hard cock is stuffed in your mouth.” He snapped his jaw closed. Dear lord, that was a great deal more than he’d meant to say.

Jemma inhaled sharply, and her nipples tightened under her camisole. They were screaming his name. “Fitz!”

He blinked, oh, she was actually talking to him. “Yes?”

“Do we have to wait?”

“No?”

She slipped off the couch and tackled him, bowling him over onto his back. She snogged him greedily and wiggled out of her bottoms, then straddled his hips and sat up to take off her shirt. “This is lovely. I didn’t want to wait.”

“I seem to remember fucking you into the mattress yesterday morning.” He couldn’t hide his grin.

She rolled her eyes. “That was yesterday.”

Fitz bucked his hips up, grinding his quickly growing erection against her core. Jemma moaned and wiggled, looking turned-on and very happy about that fact. “I know, now get down here.”

She bent over and kissed him, her mouth hungry and hot. He grabbed her arse and kneaded, thrilled to be able to touch her. Fitz broke the kiss and used his hand on her bum to push her forward until her tits were in his face. He caught a nipple and sucked, enjoying her delighted moan.  

There was nothing like Jemma overwhelming his senses. He licked and nuzzled her breasts, very satisfied to stay right there for as long as he could.

Something hit his leg and beeped. Laughing, Jemma sat up and redirected Roomie. “Not now,” she admonished. “Mum and Dad are busy.” The vacuum meandered off, and Fitz did his best to hold himself together because thinking of having a family with Jemma was enough to rattle him to pieces. Someday they’d make a life together, which was both terrifying and something he wanted fiercely. Those fantasies, of sitting down together for dinner as a family, had often been more off limits than the sexual ones. More sacred, more far-fetched.

He had the sneaking suspicion that his damn mouth, which developed a mind of its own whenever sex with Jemma was occurring as it was, would be beyond all control when they reached the making a family stage.

Jemma looked down at him. “Oh, Fitz.” Blast, his emotions must be all over his face. She was two steps ahead of him at a minimum like always. She braced her hands on his chest and undulated against his cock. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she mewled. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“No.”

Jemma stopped moving, and she frowned. “I promise I won’t be mad. You’re not your father. I know I don’t have to worry that you’d ever leave your family.”

Fitz laughed. A deep belly laugh, she was so far off the mark. He grabbed her around the waist and rolled her over, raining kisses on her face.

“What?” Now she sounded cross.

“That wasn't it at all, though I very much appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Now you have to tell.”

He rocked his erection against her and toyed with her breast.

Jemma’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a valiant attempt, but you’re not getting out of this.”

He gave up and leaned down so his mouth was beside her ear. “Do you really want to know?”

Her hands tugged at his shirt. “Yes. And get naked.”

“Well, see, I have the worst time not letting every dirty thought spill out when we’re together as it is. If I was trying to get you pregnant…it’s hopeless. I will have no control whatsoever. You’ll get every last detail about how I want to pump you full of cum so…” He broke off and pushed himself up to look in her face. “Sorry, for fuck's sake, I can barely bite my tongue now.”

Jemma’s eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, and her lips swollen. “Drat. I so hate when you talk dirty.” Her eyes opened. “What are you going to do at this moment?”

His tongue was moving before he had time to think. “I want your juicy pussy in my face so I can fuck you with my tongue while you attempt to swallow my prick whole.”

Jemma’s mouth opened and then she was pushing him over and scrambling to her knees. His shirt came off, and Jemma attacked his trousers, dragging them roughly down and off his legs.

In a flurry she kissed him, and straddled his chest, facing away from him. He stroked her arse as she inched to towards face. Fitz felt like he was on fire. He grabbed Jemma’s hips and positioned her just where he needed her. Jemma wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked. This was the best idea he’d ever had. His tongue lashed at her clit, and she moaned right as she sucked the head of his prick between her lips.

He smashed his face against her pussy, licking and sucking wildly. Her familiar sweet-tart taste drove him crazy.

She cupped his balls and bobbed her head, working him further into her mouth.

This was his idea of heaven. His sought and found her opening, and he jammed his tongue as far up it as he could get.

Jemma was making wonderful, muffled noises around his cock. The suction of her lips and dance of her tongue were perfect, as was the way she was cradling his sac.

Her hips hitched, and he returned to working her clit, his nose pressing into her folds.

Shite, he should get a doctorate in eating her out. She could give him lectures and the practical labs would be fantastic. His hypothesis would be whether she came harder from him sucking or tapping at her clit. He’d need a lot of raw data.

Would a five- or ten-point scale be better for her to rate her orgasms with?

Jemma moaned and circled her hips a few times before humping his face. He went crazy on her clit, and she came with a yell, her legs shaking. There was a rush of honey from her channel, and he diligently feasted on it.

“I love when you come,” he mumbled against her folds. He pressed the flat of his tongue against her, feeling the pulses of her sex. That he’d done that to her, and that he was the one she wanted to make her come was still something he hadn’t entirely processed. Though the way she was enthusiastically working him towards an orgasm said she really enjoyed being with him.

He loved her so much.

The attenuation of the muscle contractions from her orgasm let him know it was time to return to playing with her clit.

Jemma squealed as soon as he tapped it with the tip of his tongue and wiggled. He firmly grabbed her bum and kept her in place, licking like crazy, then closing his lips around it and sucking when she was close.

She came again with a ragged groan. Fitz kept her coming as long as he could until she slumped down and he felt her swallow around his prick.

Fuck.

His fingers clenched her rear, and he pressed his face against her pussy. She did it again, then backed off, letting him breathe. He was close. Damn close.

But he didn’t let that stop him. Fitz sank his tongue into her channel again and lifted his chin to grind against her clit.

Jemma made an unearthly nose, so he figured he was on the right track. She frantically rolled her hips, and dear lord, he felt her pussy clench around his tongue as she let go of his prick and came with a loud wail.

His hips were lifting, his cock seeking her. “Jemma,” he gasped.

She descended on him, teasing the slit at the end of his prick with the tip of her tongue for an instant, then bobbing her head while sucking and licking.

“Can you—” he gasped, not quite wanting to say it. Jemma understood anyway and took more of him in. His sac was tight, his belly tense. He couldn’t breathe, and his face was still snuggled against Jemma’s pussy. She swallowed around his cock, and he came. Bliss overtook him. His back arched and he shouted. Jemma was drinking him down, and it was almost too much.

He was glad she couldn’t see how close to tears he was.

When Jemma released his prick, she shuffled around, redirected Roomie again, and lay sprawled over top of him.

“Thank you,” he said.

“I should be thanking you.” She kissed his chest. “You are very talented with your tongue.”

He grinned like he’d gone mad, but Jemma appeared almost shy, and her hair was in front of her face. Fitz brushed it out of the way. “Did I do okay?” she asked in a small voice.

“Of course you did! Why would you think you didn’t? I nearly turned inside out.”

She flushed and laughed. “I couldn’t endlessly do it, or…I don’t know…breathe.”

“Did I hurt you?” His heart seemed to pause.

“Oh, no!” She smiled, and the ache in his chest eased. “And you were amazing. I liked this a lot.”

“Me too. Absolutely a do again.”

“Yes…oh, dear, Roomie really wants to clean this spot.”

The vacuum was whirring back towards them.

“I suppose we should get up and let him. Do you want to shower together? Get clean after getting dirty?” The idea of sudsing up Jemma and caring for her seemed very appealing.

She brightened up. “Yes, please!”

They stood just in time for Roomie to roll over the patch of floor they’d been lying on. Fitz would swear the vacuum seemed smug.

****

_Friday_

Fitz was setting up new parameters for the data crack of Trevor’s phone. His desktop had kept stalling, and he’d forgotten to check from Wednesday morning until today. Jemma was distracting, as was the work on the non-lethal weapon for Fury.

Jemma had asked about the data, and now Fitz was determined to figure out what was wrong with his program. Getting into a mobile should be a cake walk. He redesigned the parameters and set things up like he wanted to hack the NSA, not a personal phone.

By ten o’clock, he had everything ready to go and set it loose on the copy of Trevor’s mobile.

It chewed, it chugged, it slowed his laptop down to a crawl, and then it got through. A window popped up, showing a duplicate of Trevor’s home screen. His background was the default one, which seemed weird. Not a lot of people didn’t bother to change it.

The phone was also disappointingly empty.

Almost no music, no financial files, and only a few random pictures. Mostly of Trevor’s finger.

It didn’t make sense. The file for the copied phone was huge. Gigs and gigs of data.

Fitz started looking for anything odd. There were all the usual apps, and one for a game he’d never heard of. It looked like the normal kind, and when he opened it, it played like the usual match three game. He went back to the front screen. “Jemma,” he said, and she walked over to where he was propped on the counter and staring at his computer.

“Is this Trevor’s?” she asked.

“Yeah, but it looks empty. Do you see anything odd here?” She leaned closer but shook her head.

Taking over the controls, Jemma looked through everything. She scrolled up and down the five songs on the playlist. “None of these are Nickleback,” she said, sounding very disappointed.

“I don’t recognize any of them.”

“Me either, but the play counter on this song is much higher than any of the other ones.” She hovered the mouse arrow over the song. _Springtime_ by Alphus. She pressed play.

The screen went dark, there were a few flashes, and then an entirely different screen appeared.

Jemma gasped and hit the power key, hard shutting down the laptop. “I don’t think…I don’t know.”

Fitz couldn’t move. He was frozen, staring at where the laptop screen had been.

“We need to get out of here, now.” Jemma’s voice was coming from very far away.

“Did you see?” he whispered. The image of a red octopus was burned onto his retinas.

Trevor wasn’t just an arse.

He was Hydra.

****

They grabbed their stuff from the lab and knocked on Richard’s door. Jemma calmly said they needed a week off to work on personal issues and that in light of everything that’d happened recently, he should grant them a vacation.

Richard grimaced but nodded. Jemma thanked him, and they rushed for the lifts. Fitz’s heart was in his throat, even though everything in the office seemed perfectly normal. People were at their desks, and they passed Molly texting on her mobile in the hallway.

Jemma stopped and gushed to Molly about the super cheap flight and hotel to Florida they’d gotten and that Richard was so cowed he’d granted them leave. Molly squeed, hugged Jemma, and winked at Fitz. “You keep her busy!” Molly chirped. Fitz gave her a little wave.

Molly scuttled off, mobile in hand. In two seconds that story would be all over the building. Fitz-Simmons were using the cash to take a vacation together. Bless Molly for being a chatterbox.

In the lift, Fitz pulled the device he’d used the previous weekend out of his laptop bag and stopped the car. He took a deep breath. “I figured this was the best place to plan.”

Jemma held her hands out to him, and they hugged. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Me either. But we had some training, even if we failed our field assessment.” Fitz felt Jemma’s nod. “What’s the first step when you acquire potentially dangerous intelligence?” He hoped she was clear headed enough to remember, because he couldn’t.

“Secure it,” Jemma said.

“Alright, it’s on my laptop. But there’s a copy on my computer at home. I need to make sure that it’s hidden and that computer isn’t connected to wi-fi. What next?”

“Get to a safe location.”

“We pack fast and go to a cheap hotel. In case they know about our apartment.” His knees shook.  

Jemma pushed back and took a deep breath. “Excellent. Before we do anything else, we need to look at what we have. That will determine our next step.”

“Okay, it’s a good plan.” Fitz sighed. “What a buggering wanker. I knew he was rubbish when he looked at your tits like that.”

Jemma’s lips formed a thin smile. It’s what he’d been aiming for. “Fitz, people who look at my breasts are not evil.”

“They are unless they’re me.” He started the lift again. When the doors clanged open, he put an arm in front of Jemma and stopped her until he’d looked around the lobby. It appeared like business as usual. Taking her hand, he walked with her past the front security desk, where the guard nodded to them.

“Florida?” he said with a smile.

“It’s going to be amazing!” Jemma’s smile was bright.

“You kids have fun! I can’t wait to see your tans.”

Fitz made an expression with his mouth that he hoped was a smile. Damn, Molly worked fast.

Outside, they hurried to the car. Jemma got in the passenger seat, and he collapsed into the driver’s side and turned the key. The engine started. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Fitz?”

“I should have checked. I should…we could have been blown sky high.”

Jemma patted his knee and left her hand there. “I don’t think they work that fast. We accessed the phone fifteen minutes ago, but we should get going.”

Hoping for an intact brake line, and stomping on them once to check, he drove as fast as he dared back to their flat. Inside, he yanked the power out of the router and started a security program on his desktop that would compress and hide nearly everything on it. He packed a suitcase, barely registering what he was putting in.

Jemma appeared and handed him a bag of toiletries. In the living room, she pulled the case with the drones out from beside the couch. They’d both been meaning to work on the AI, but hadn’t had time the last several weeks.

Roomie brushed by Fitz’s foot, and he picked the vacuum up and turned off its power. Jemma raised a brow. “I can’t leave him here in harm’s way,” Fitz blurted, even though he knew it was irrational. Jemma didn’t argue, but she did go and get a Roomie’s dock.

They left, and Fitz felt sick as he locked the door. He didn’t know when they’d be back, and this was home. He followed Jemma down the steps, and his racing heart slowed a beat. It was okay, he and Jemma were together. Wherever she was, that was home.

He secured the bags and Roomie in the boot of the car, and after a few seconds to make sure no one was close, he pulled out into traffic.

“I think just make random turns, and I’ll watch to see if anyone is following us.”

“Right. Can you double check that I disabled tracking on my mobile?”

Fitz drove for nearly an hour, getting on and off the highway, darting over to make surprise left turns, and in general being unpredictable. Jemma checked and double checked their mobiles, then started going through their work bags, looking for anything suspicious.

She didn’t find anything.

“What if the car’s being tracked?” she asked as Fitz cruised slowly through a Boston suburb.

“Bloody hell. Wait, we can check with the drones.” He pulled over on a side street and got out to retrieve the drones. Jemma set one up while he powered up the tablet. The drone scanned the car and them, looking for any signals, incoming or outgoing.

“I think we’re good,” he said at last.

“Okay.” Jemma crossed her arms and stared at the ground while he stowed the drone and tablet away.

They got back in the car. “Where to?”

“Motel, somewhere we can park around back and not be seen from the street. I have the cash from the betting pool, so we can pay without using a card.”

“Fantastic.” He rubbed at his cheek. “It’ll probably end up being a place with hourly rates. They’ll wonder what the Scotsman was going to do to the pretty brunette that’s going to take all night.”

Jemma laughed. “Oh, Fitz, don’t tease like that. And I’m sure a Motel Six will be fine. Slip the attendant an extra twenty, and they won’t ask any questions.”

After another twenty minutes of driving north, he found a place that looked like it was somewhere between a roach motel and a big chain. It was nautical themed with a ship in a jar in the office, along with a bunch of random sailing paraphernalia.

The clerk was an apple-cheeked older woman, who smiled at them.

“We’re just passing through and need a bed for the night. Heading to Boston.” Shite. He should have tried to hide his accent. The clerk looked delighted.

“Well, now, that sounds wonderful. Sixty-five for double occupancy, and I’ll put you in the big room. Lots of room to roll around in.” She gave Jemma a salacious wink and Fitz’s cheeks heated. Jemma snuggled against his side, much to the clerk's amusement. She pushed the register over. “If you fill this in, please.” He counted out the cash, and included an extra twenty for luck, then registered them as Mr. and Mrs. Brown. When he hesitated, Jemma took the pen and wrote down a London address.

The key the clerk handed them was an actual key with a placard hanging off it. To his relief, the room was in the back of the motel, and he parked the car right in front of the door.

They took all their stuff inside, barred the door, and made a dinner out of the snacks Jemma had thought to pack. While chewing on a granola bar, Fitz put his laptop in airplane mode and brought up the cracked file of Trevor’s phone. He hit play on the song, and once more the simulated phone screen changed over to the one with the Hydra logo.

They read as they ate. Every file and piece of data was incriminating. SHIELD was completely infiltrated. There were operatives in the field that were Hydra, high-level command personnel, even some of the profs at the academy.

It was unprecedented.

Fitz was dizzy from it all. “How can this be real?” he asked quietly. “Everything is a lie. Everything we know is a lie.”

“No.” Jemma squeezed his arm. “It’s not. SHIELD is worth fighting for. What I can’t figure out is why have all this on a mobile?”

“I think it’s the nature of the how they’re organizing. Obviously, they can’t use regular data channels, and there’s no central hub. Every device attached to their crypto network has to be able to function as a hub when needed. It’s ingenious.”

“We need to contact Fury.”

“Oh, sure, I’ll just run down to the nearest payphone and dial up the Director of SHIELD and let him know about his squid infestation.”

“Fitz!”

“Don’t Fitz me. We are way out of our depth. How do we contact Fury?”

“We make something. This is what we do.”

Fitz rubbed his eyes. Like usual, she war correct. “Alright, if we’re lucky, the Hydra-net never realized that our copy of the phone was copy. Maybe they didn’t even get an odd signal. We should have some time.”

“Then let’s sleep on it. It’ll look clearer in the morning. We’ve stared at this data for hours.”

“Yes, alright.”

After neatly putting everything away—Jemma was insisting it all be ready to go at a moment’s notice—Fitz set two of the drones up to patrol and activate an alarm to his phone if anything was wrong. Roomie was set in a place of honor in the middle of the second bed. Fully clothed, he curled up together with Jemma, relieved beyond all measure that she was in his arms.

****

_Sunday_

Fitz woke cramped and freezing. He was on his side with Jemma plastered against him, frowning in her sleep. They’d kicked the covers off somehow, and Fitz covered her up after untangling himself to go and use the loo.

He came back out to find her sitting up. “Tea?” she asked, not even opening her eyes.

The tiny coffee maker in the room looked suspect, but it boiled water alright. She directed him to the duffle with the tea in it, and he grabbed two bags.

There was the top of something else peeking out from the jumble of kitchen things, and Fitz pulled out the Scrabble bag.

“You brought it?” he asked, hoarsely.

Jemma smiled as she stretched. “I promised twenty-six weekends of no-strings-attached sexual experimentation.”

Fitz laughed as he returned to the sputtering coffee maker. “I hate to tell you this, but we’ve had zero weekends of no-strings-attached sex.” He poured the water and dumped the bag in.

Jemma gratefully accepted her cup. “I know. I suppose we’ll have to keep trying.”

“As long as you want.” He shook his head and sipped at his drink. Forever sounded about right.

Jemma smiled a little tightly and looked around the room. “We need a better hiding spot.”

“You don’t like the grand suite of Boats-R-Us inn, or whatever this place is called?”

“I think we can do better.” She picked up her mobile from the nightstand, then pulled the ancient brown phone over to her that the hotel provided. He supposed he should count his lucky stars it was touch-tone and not rotary.

Jemma dialed a number. It took her two seconds and the promise of a higher rate paid in cash to get them a week-long rental at the Cape Cod cabin they’d stayed at before. She said she was worried about her ex finding her and could the landlord please not put Jemma’s name in the computer? The woman on the other end of the line made a lot of indignant noises and promised Jemma she’d be safe.

“The wood paneling is terrible,” he said as Jemma hung up.

“It gives us space and room. The drones can patrol.” She pointed to the two that were currently slowly tracing the outside perimeter of the room.

“They’re excellent guard dogs. And Roomie can vacuum up the sand we track in.”

Jemma looked down at the quilt and picked at the lint on it. Her tea was only half finished, but she’d set it down and didn’t seem interested. His cup joined hers. Fitz brought the scrabble bag over, pulled the covers off Jemma, and dropped in on her crotch. “Pick.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, but wiggled two fingers in the bag and came out with a tile. She held it up, pinched between those fingers. It was the letter: V.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my 100th Fic (which will be the next I post!) I'm doing a collection of kiss prompts from my readers over the next couple of weeks. Check out the post here: [Sun's 100th Fic Celebration.](https://sunalsolove.tumblr.com/post/184000506849/suns-100th-fic-celebration) You can send me an ask ("ask away" at the top of the page) even if you don't have a tumblr account. Thank you all for reading and making this writing thing so much more fun for me! :-D


	25. V

_Tuesday_

The tiny cabin smelled of ocean, and Jemma breathed in deeply as she woke up. She could get used to this. Her next thought was that it was Tuesday, and her nipples tightened. Between her legs, her pussy pulsed with wanting.

Damn, it was like a prick seeking missile at this point. Or something. She was too horny to care if the metaphor worked or not. “Fitz,” she whispered.

He rolled towards her but didn’t open his eyes. His hand patted around under the blanket until he found her leg, then ran up it, pushed under the waistband of her knickers, and strummed her aching clit. Bolts of pleasure zinged through her.

“Fitz.” This time it was a moan, and the corner of his mouth turned upward.

He worked her expertly. He was a Jemma-expert. A Jemma-sexpert. Her lust hazed nd not very awake brain thought that was very funny, and she would have laughed, except she was very close to coming and needed to focus on that.

She was so wet his fingers rubbing her and teasing her clit and opening made a noise, though she didn’t much care as she rocked against his talented hand. Her orgasm came quickly, and she groaned as the pleasure radiated in warm waves from where he touched her.

Fitz, eyes still closed, brought his cream-coated fingers to his lips to suck on briefly, before pushing his pajama bottoms down. Jemma hooked the crotch of her knickers to the side and helped guide his cock into her. Having already come once meant she was more than ready for him, and Fitz thrust home with a soft grunt. He hugged her close and fucked her while continuing to keep his eyes closed. He was muttering something about pussies and being sopping wet, but even though her head was right beside his on the pillow, she couldn’t hear all of it.

She kissed him softly and was rewarded with a happy groan.

His thrusts didn’t speed up, but it still wasn’t long before he gasped out her name and his cock bucked. With a soft sigh he settled an arm around her and pulled her close. A minute later he was snoring softly, his prick still firmly embedded inside her. Giving up on moving, Jemma drifted back off as well. She woke up to Fitz sitting on the side of the bed. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said cheerfully.

“Morning.” He scratched his chest.

“Thank you for the wonderful time this morning.”

He grinned at her over his shoulder. “It was ruddy wonderful, wasn’t it. Though I have no idea how you’ve managed to train me so well.”

“Train you?”

“I wake up Tuesday morning, and my prick remembers what that means before I do.”

“Ah, I’m in the same boat.”

Fitz looked very pleased with himself as he stood and stretched. “Cereal for breakfast and then we’ll get to work?”

“Sounds excellent.”

She lingered over her cereal, but couldn’t put off joining Fitz at the kitchen table once she had her tea in hand. He was already bent over the old dot matrix printer they’d fished out of a dumpster yesterday from behind a mom-and-pop computer repair shop in a strip mall. They’d found the printer and a couple of old landline phones. It wasn’t much, but Fitz was certain they could send a signal through very unconventional means.

Jemma opened her laptop and worked on composing the message, starting with the string of coordinates Fury had sent to them. She kept revising it down to the bare bones. At the end, she gave him a way to ping them back.

“I need a cell phone,” Fitz said after a while.

“Use mine.” Jemma retrieved it from one of the bags. The stop to dumpster raid and a quick run into a tiny grocery store in the closest town had been the most she and Fitz had wanted to risk, and Jemma was worried they didn’t have enough food to last for very long out here, but she was more concerned about going anywhere. Here the drones were patrolling, four at a time while the other four charged. Running into town for groceries was a danger she didn’t want to face until they were down to nothing.

As Fitz opened the back of her mobile, she pulled up data from the drones and played back anything that’d caught their attention. There’d been nothing to trip their alarms, but there were alerts. Mostly it was raccoons, along with one cat that came and hunted in the tall grass of the dunes.

No humans anywhere, even at a distance. She wished that was enough information for her to relax, but it wasn’t. They didn’t even know if they could get through to Fury. She’d extrapolated from some of the stuff in the message he’d sent and was hoping her memory of it was correct.

“I need more parts,” Fitz said after a while, dragging a hand down his face.

“Your mobile?” He shook his head. “I can send the message with yours and use the protection chip in it to strip identifying information, but I need more power to force the signal into a landline and have it broadcast to a cell tower.”

There was a lot more after that, programming to bounce the message around until it hopefully reached Fury without alerting anyone. She’d done the math, Fitz had double checked it, and she’d done it again. “What do you need? The kitchen is pretty bare here.”

Fitz looked over to where Roomie was sitting in a corner. Jemma hadn’t had time to set him up yet in the new place.

Her stomach dropped.

“No.” He couldn’t. She’d saved Roomie and brought him with them and just no. “You can’t eviscerate him. He’s family.”

Fitz was around the table and holding her in a second. “I’ll fix him up, Jemma, it’s just for a little while. He’ll be happy he’s helping.”

She nodded because of course it was more important to save SHIELD than worry about a vacuum, but she hadn’t let herself feel sad over running. After all, she and Fitz will still together, but pulling Roomie apart felt personal. It hurt in a way being alone in a tiny cottage didn’t. “Okay.” She wiped at her eyes and Fitz kissed her cheek.

“I’m not happy about it either,” he said. “I promise a million times over he’ll be better than new when we go home.”

“I’m going to do…something else while you—” She gestured towards Roomie. Fitz nodded, and she went to the bedroom, neatly making the bed and sitting on it with a book that a past guest had left behind. It wasn’t her usual style, but _In Bed with The Highlander_ turned out to be a page-turner. She was completely engrossed when Fitz walked in.

“That wee bastard had my nan’s ring in its collection tray. The nerve! How’d it even get ahold of the ruddy thing and­—Jemma! What the fuck are you reading?”

She looked at him over the top of the book. “It was in the drawer.”

His eyes flicked down to the cover and back up. “Don’t get it into your head that I’m going to wear a kilt.”

“But,” she set the book aside and crawled towards him on her hands and knees, “I could slide my hands right up your thighs to­—”

“Right, wonderful.” He swallowed visibly. “Before you go ravishing me, we should get this message sent.”

Jemma pouted but stood and followed him back to the kitchen. She steadfastly ignored how Roomie had been opened up and his parts strewn across the table. Fitz urned her mobile on. Jemma typed in her message and hit send. The electronics on the table all lit up and made noise for a few seconds, then were silent. A lone green light blinked on the printer.

They waited. Fitz made them more tea, and they continued to wait. About an hour later, Jemma almost jumped out of her skin when the printer came to life. It spat out a message, and Fitz pulled it off the spool.

“Investigating,” Fitz read. “If safe, stay put. Will contact Sunday morning 1000. F.”

Jemma grabbed the paper out of his hands. “That’s it? How do we know it’s from him?”

“We don’t.”

She stared at it. “What do we do?”

“I think we trust. Even if it’s not from Fury, the communication was untraceable.”

“So it would make more sense for Hydra to tell us to go to a certain spot if they wanted to do us in.” Jemma’s forehead creased. Was all of this supposed to be second nature because she was in SHIELD? Those sorts of lessons had never mattered as much as her science classes. Now she wished she’d taken far more notes.

Fitz held out his hand, and she took it. “We’ve done what we can.”

“I love you,” she said.

Fitz turned to face her, his expression grim. “I love you too.”

****

_Friday_

A drone passed by the kitchen window, pausing for a second to scan, then went on its merry way. Having a pack of hypervigilant guard dogs wasn’t making her feel any better at the moment. Jemma hated sitting still and not knowing what was happening.

Would they even have a place to work after this? They couldn’t risk calling the office and saying they’d be out for longer. She’d finished her romance novel, and was thinking of reading it again, only letting Fitz read the naughty parts to her out loud. That would be entertaining.

Jemma shook the Jiffypop on the stove burner as the sharp explosions of popcorn kernels sounded like so much distant gunfire. It wasn’t much for dinner, but they didn’t have much left. On Monday one or both of them was going to have to come up with a disguise to fool any facial recognition software Hydra might be running and head to whatever grocery store looked least likely to have security cameras.

Fitz came in carrying two movie cases. “ _Battleship Earth_ or _Logan’s Run_?”

She made a face. “Neither.”

Fitz sighed. “Does that mean we’re watching _Autumn in New York_?” The cottage had an aging DVD player and three movies. If she’d know, Jemma would have brought some of her and Fitz’s.

“It does, I simply can’t handle either of those others at the moment.”

“I’m going to complain about the selection in an email. Someday. When we’re not hiding out.”

Jemma nodded and removed the close to bursting popcorn off the stove. Fitz pulled down a big metal bowl, and she carefully opened the top and dumped the popcorn in.

Fitz started the movie, and they curled up on what passed for a couch in the cabin. As the opening credits and music played, accompanied by a helicopter shot that moved over fall foliage that Jemma thought was lovely­—the fall colors were one of the best parts of living and working in New England—Fitz made a face.

“I’m going to hate this,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “It’s completely not your thing. It’s not my thing either, but we’re going to watch it and pretend it’s fine and…oh my, he’s a pig.”  She’d forgotten the opening lines of the movie were that bad.

“Uh-huh.” Fitz grabbed a handful of popcorn, and she did as well. It was salty and delicious and not very filling, and she and Fitz finished most of it in the first 30 minutes of the movie. When they were down to the last handful of popped kernels, Fitz grabbed one and tossed it up in the air, and then completely missed catching it with his mouth.

Jemma giggled, and he smiled and tried again, with the same result. He’d used to do it in the dorm room when they were studying, and he’d used to be better at it.

She grabbed a piece.  “Can I feed the seal?” It’s what she’d named the game of tossing food for him to catch in his mouth the first time they’d played it.

“Bloody hell, I forgot you called it that.” He made a face. “Sure.”

Laughing, she tossed it up with a good arc. Fitz caught it easily and chewed it. She altered her throwing angle, and he caught that one too. As always, they worked best as a team. After the third one, which Fitz caught as well, she moved the bowl to the floor and ensconced herself in Fitz’s lap.

“We haven’t played that one for a bit, have we?” she asked.

“Not a lot of late night study sessions anymore.”

“How could I have spent all that time with you, and been silly with you, and sometimes slept next to you and not known that I was in love with you?”

Fitz stroked her hair and held her against him. “Well, how did you think we’d end up later in life, back then?”

“Give me two seconds to think.” She closed her eyes, trying not to conflate what she’d felt back then with the bone-deep love she had for him now. “I think…I think I never wanted it to end. That you always had to be my lab partner no matter what. The life I was imagining was always by your side.”

“Same,” he said softly, his breath tickling her forehead. “There was so much uncertainty, but I knew I’d fight to stay with you. When you suggested we share a flat in Boston it didn’t surprise me. Of course we’d work together, of course we’d live together. And you know, I would have been okay if all we ever were was really close friends.”

“I can’t imagine never figuring out that my heart belongs to you.” It was a terrifying thought. “What if we ended up a nursing home, side by side, and still did nothing but watch bad television and bicker?”

“Then it would have been a good life.”

“Oh, Fitz.” She turned into him and hugged him tight, both arms around his neck.

“I’m not going to lie and say I’m not glad we’re boning.”

Jemma pushed herself back. “Did you just say boning?”

“Too American? C’mere lass, ye getting’ those chebs out makes­—”

“Stop!”

“Wha? Ye donna want to hear about my stauner?”

“Fitz!”

He laughed, and she rolled her eyes.

“For the record,” she said. “I too am glad we have proper shags, which reminds me, I should tell you what I want tomorrow.”

“Aye?”

“You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“Am not. Makes the shagging part difficult.”

Jemma poked his shoulder. “I just want vaginal sex.”

“Vanilla?”

“Like we’ve been married thirty years.”

Fitz grinned at her. “I promise in thirty years I’ll still want to fuck the daylights out of you, my arthritis permitting.”

She laughed. “I promise lots of excellent vitamins to keep you in good fucking condition.”

“You fucking better.”

She poked his chest. “What would you do without me?”

“I’d be chugging a lot more.”

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even look embarrassed.

“Poor Fitz, glad I could save you from having to masturbate.”

“You’re my hero, Jemma.”

****

_Saturday_

The ocean breeze rolled in through the open windows, along with the sound of the surf. Jemma stripped down to nothing and put her clothes in the hamper. The place didn’t have a washer and dryer, and she’d had to resort to cleaning things in the bathtub, with Fitz’s help. At least their clothes all smelled nice from drying in the sea air.

She was certain Fitz was designing a way to wash clothes in a tub with less manual labor at the moment, or something like that. He’d been sitting on the couch with a pad of paper and a pen, muttering to himself. His beard was really starting to be a beard since he’d managed to forget to bring any of his shaving stuff with him. His curls were getting long too and had been highlighted by the early afternoon sun.

Jemma had stared. She wanted her Scot in her bed. Preferably now, which was why she was naked. She stretched out on the white sheet of the bed and decided a cover wasn’t needed. “Fitz!” she called.

“What?” came the distracted reply.

“Fitz! Come here, please.”

“In a minute, I’m­—”

“Now.”

There was a rumbly sound of discontent as Fitz got to his feet and walked to the bedroom. “What do you..” he trailed off. After a beat, he exploded into action. His shirt came off, followed by his trousers and boxers, and he did an adorable hopping dance to get his socks off. Wearing nothing but a grin, he lay down beside her. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He looked so pleased and happy, as if the best thing in the world was finding his girlfriend naked in bed. From the way her heart was soaring, not to mention the molten heat moving through her belly, she’d argue that having her naked boyfriend join her in bed was one of the best things in existence.  

Fitz traced a hand down her side and back up. “You look so lovely,” he said. “With the light caressing you.”

“I like you touching me better.” She took his wrist, directing him to her breast.

He kneaded it and teased her nipple. “Is this the part where I climb on top of you and grunt for a couple of minutes.”

“What?”

“You said you wanted it like we’d been married for thirty years.”

“That’s what you plan to be doing by then?”

His eyes were twinkling, and he was still playing with her tit. “Entirely. When it’s your birthday, I sort of lick at your clit for a second or two first.”

“Well.” She narrowed her eyes. “On your birthday I’ll give you two minutes of really bored fellatio. While thinking about what to make for dinner tomorrow.”

“I’ll make sure to time it for you.”

They dissolved into giggles. “You don’t think we’ll really be like that, do you?” she asked.

Fitz rolled onto his back and she followed along, draping herself half over him. He was warm under her, and she scratched at the hair on his chest. “I don’t. I can’t imagine making love with you to be anything but a sacred act. You’re my Jemma, and I’ll always take care of you.”

She had to kiss him after that, his beard rough against her face. Her hand worked down his belly to clasp around his hardening cock. Fitz caressed her back and arse as they slowly explored each other’s mouth. It felt like time was standing still, and they could spend an entire lifetime right here, touching and loving each other.

Fitz got bolder after his hand had traveled over her several times. He ran a finger down her spine, and briefly cupped an arse cheek before wiggling his fingers between her legs to stroke her pussy. Following the first firm stroke, he gasped and broke the kiss. Looking excited, he pushed her over onto her back and slid down her body.

“Your pussy hair is coming in!” he said, petting her mons.

Jemma didn’t know exactly how she was supposed to react. “You’re not the only one who forgot a razor. Please ignore my legs.”

“It’s softer than I thought it’d be.” He was flat out stroking her like a cat now. “You don’t have to shave as much as you have been if you don’t want.”

“It’s only a little for you. I prefer to be bare down there for the most part, but maybe I can keep a little strip.”

Fitz looked delighted. “A landing strip!” He made airplane noises, and he lifted his hand and then landed his fingers on her mons again. It was too adorable. This was what love was — being goofy with your boyfriend while he was between your legs.

“Maybe I’ll make it an arrow, to suggest what you should be doing.”

Fitz didn’t need a second hint as his fingers immediately delved between the lips of her pussy to tease her clit. “Nice and wet,” he murmured. “Someone wants a good shagging.” He glanced up at her. “I’m thinking of ramming my rock-hard cock into you over and over, fucking you hard enough that you can’t remember your own name before filling you up with cum until you’re overflowing with it.”

Jemma groaned, and her head flopped back on the pillow. He was so damn good at talking dirty to her.

“I believe,” he continued. “That you’re agreeable to the idea since your cunny just drenched my fingers. I love how turned on you get. Still don’t know why you do, but I like it.”

She managed to raise her head to glare at him. “Fitz, you’re…Fitz-shaped. I like that.” She dropped her head back down. Not her most brilliant moment.

Fitz chucked as he fingered her. “I’ll remember that for my future bios. ‘I’ve been told I’m Fitz-shaped’.”

“It’s a nice shape. To have.” She was running out of words as pleasure made her belly tighten. “I also like your penis.” She held her hand out and mimed dropping something.

“Did you just mic drop?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the absolute best woman in the universe.”

His fingers moved deftly, and she peaked. Her legs twitched as her hips undulated. Fitz pulled his fingers out of her and scooched up her body. He rained kisses on her lips, nose, cheeks, and chin.

“I’m going to shag you now,” he said. Jemma used her fingers to guide his cock to her channel, then wrapped her arms around his neck. Fitz moaned and eagerly thrust inside her. The hard length of him felt just right, and she spread her legs further apart and braced her feet on the mattress to make it easier to meet him stroke for stroke.

He moved hard and fast, panting as he fucked her roughly. The frantic action of his hips wasn’t matched by his mouth as his lips languidly wandered down her jaw to her neck.

Jemma’s eyes closed. Fitz was grinding against her every couple of strokes, and she lifted her hips, making it every stroke. A muscle in her leg ticked and she held her breath as the bliss stole over her in deep waves from her core. The orgasm was heightened by the pounding Fitz was giving her, and she made quite a few odd noises as she rode out her pleasure.

“Jemma,” Fitz muttered against her neck, over and over. He nipped at her, and then his lips fastened tight on her skin as his thrusts became rhythmless.  She dug her fingers into his back, enjoying the way he went rigid for a moment when he came. He sagged down on top of her, and after a few minutes of blissfully cuddling him, she wiggled, as she was far too hot and sweaty for cuddles.

She pushed at Fitz, and he crashed on his side, facing her. She scooted away from him. “Trying to get rid of me already? Wham, bam, thank you ma’am?” he asked.

“Either that or because I’m sweating like I’m roasting over a fire.”

“Wait a minute. I’ll be right  back.”

Fitz stood, and after a first wobbly step, was able to walk to the loo. He brought back two flannels and wiped himself down while she did the same. “It’s nice, being here again,” she said.  “Wish it was under different circumstances.”

Fitz lay down on his back beside her. “Agreed.”

They dozed until late afternoon, and then scraped together dinner. It was granola and peanut butter, but at least it was satisfying. They watched the local news, which cut away to a breaking news story. There was a fire raging out of a broken window in the Triskelion. Jemma grabbed Fitz’s arm.

An on-scene announcer spoke into a microphone. “The fire appears to be contained at this time, and SHIELD has issued a press release attributing the flames to an electrical problem.”

“My arse that’s an electrical fire,” Fitz hissed. “The smoke’s wrong.” He stood and paced in the small living room. Jemma stared at the screen, even when the story changed to local traffic. There was nothing they could do. Their only hope was that the fires, of all kinds, inside SHIELD were indeed being contained.

****

_Sunday_

Breakfast was a shared packet of trail mix and tap water, followed by waiting for ten o’clock.

“You could pick a letter?” Jemma asked as both she and Fitz sat at the kitchen table.

He shook his head. “After.”

There was nothing to do but wait. At 9:59, Fitz flipped the power to the communication device on. It hummed with electricity, and the printer’s green light blinked.

10:00.

10:01.

Jemma yelped when the printer came to life. She pulled it off the spool as soon as it was done.

“Hydra being found and eliminated. Could use the non-lethal weapons. Based on previous requests, supplies are being dropped at your location. Yes, we figured it out. It’s paid for another week. Nice choice. We are also sending food. Don’t risk going anywhere.”

Jemma’s stomach felt funny, and Fitz seemed at a loss.

“Can you build the prototypes?” she asked.

“Can you formulate the dendrotoxin?”

They made faces at each other, then nodded. It’d get done. This was what they were meant for, not route experiments in a mostly ignored facility.

“Pick a letter now.” Jemma retrieved the Scrabble bag and held it out to Fitz. Her hand was shaking, and he soothed his palm over her forearm and wrist until she stilled. As he reached into the bag, the steady thump of helicopter blades drew closer, and the drones sounded the alarm. She hoped it was only SHIELD dropping off supplies.

Fitz held up the tile. It was the letter: **E**.


	26. E

_Wednesday_

The printer on their makeshift communication device woke up and spat out a message.

As instructed, they turned it on from 3:19-3:26 every afternoon. But it had been silent the last few days.

Roomie was still assisting with communications, and from time to time Jemma would fuss over his bits. Fitz had developed a rather elaborate plan for upgrades once he could put their vacuum back together.

Fitz set down his screwdriver and went to retrieve the paper. He carried it to the kitchen, where Jemma had a bare-bones chemistry lab set up. He hoped none of the fumes from her experiments were toxic because while she had the window open and a fan blowing, it wasn’t the same as a fume hood.

She peered at him from behind her safety goggles. “What’s it say?”

“I’ll be there Monday morning. Have everything prepared.”

Jemma’s shoulders slumped. “It’s not much time, and this isn’t easy.”

“I know.” He glanced towards the bits and pieces he had scattered everywhere. None of it even looked like a gun at the moment.

“And we’re so limited! There’s only what we received in the crate, and quite a bit of that box was filled up with groceries.”

He tried a smile. “At least everything has tasted delicious.”

“Not the point.”

“Do you think you can’t do this? We can say as much tomorrow.”

As Fitz had expected, Jemma’s eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare try to use reverse psychology on me.”

Damn. “You like a challenge.”

“Challenge yes, being asked for the impossible, no.”

He put his hands on his hips. “I don’t remotely believe you. This isn’t impossible.”

Jemma wrinkled up her nose. “It’s really not, is it?” Ah, there she was. Jemma glared at the test tubes  containing liquid in various shades of blue sitting on the counter. “I’m close. I might be done if I had a full lab.” She turned back to him. “It’s kind of exciting though isn’t it? We’re on the run and helping to stop evil, using only the resources we have to create things that are nearly science fiction.” Her lips curved into a smile. “Look at us!”

“It’s not much like our field assessments, is it?  Much less immediate danger.”

She nodded and pulled her goggles off. “Do you ever think you’d like being a field agent?” She retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge and handed one to him. It must be break time.

He took a sip before answering. “Sometimes? Depends on how much James Bond stuff I have to do because you might not have noticed, but I’m not exactly him.”

“Fitz.” Jemma raised a brow as she took a drink. “Neither am I, but it’s less rooftop chases and more stuff like this. Thinking on your feet, looking for solutions. It’s not plodding to work and writing expense reports for Richard Head.”

“Sold.”

She laughed. “You’re excellent at thinking on the fly and working with what’s available. You’ve already come up with a casing for the projectile and are constructing the internal hardware.”

Fitz didn’t feel nearly so competent as she made him sound, but she wasn’t wrong, either. “I did take the spot at the Academy because I wanted to save the world.”

“Me too.”  Jemma came over and put an arm around him, snuggling against his shoulder. “And we are, in our way.”

He nuzzled the top of her head. “I could do this more, as long as you’re there.”

“Agreed.” Her hold on him tightened.

“What about Section Seventeen?” He asked, his throat closed up as he imagined being ripped away from her and court marshaled for daring to touch Jemma.

“There are lots of ways around that.” She laughed. “Do you honestly think I’d give up shagging you now?”

“I hope not.”

“Don’t be obtuse. You know I’m not kidding.”

He kissed the end of her nose before stepping back and finishing his water. She took the empty for the recycle bin. “I do know,” Fitz reassured her.

They returned to their projects. Fitz desperately tried to remember their training manuals. There was supposed to be no sexual or romantic affairs between active field agents, but SHIELD made exceptions. He was nearly certain that already married couples could be recruited into fieldwork.

But that didn’t include them. Fitz looked towards the kitchen. Or at least it didn’t yet.

****

_Saturday_

The two prototypes of the gun were laid out on the coffee table. Fitz was incredibly proud since he’d assembled them in a cabin. He was even prouder of Jemma for having figured out the dendrotoxin formula while having such a tiny space to experiment in, and not nearly the right equipment. They’d worked nonstop the entire week to make the guns functional.

And they were, in theory.

One of the drones was keeping a watch for the local raccoons. It wasn’t as good as a lab rat but would have to do. Maybe the gits would avoid rattling the lids on the rubbish bins once one of their own had been shot.

Jemma was sitting on the couch, her eyes closed, while he leaned against the wall. The sounds of the surf breaking were audible, and the world was glowing as the sun worked its way below the horizon.

Fitz’s heart ached in his chest as he watched how the light caressed Jemma’s skin. He loved her. It was sometimes terrifying how strong his feelings for her were, but exhilarating too. There was nothing that would keep him from being with her. Nothing he wouldn’t do to keep her safe and happy.

He ran a hand through his hair. One of the drones issued an alert, and Jemma’s eyes popped open.

Grinning, she sat up. “Time to test!”

She sounded so excited that he couldn’t help smiling as well. Since neither of them were the best shot, they’d set out food as a lure. Jemma took one rifle, and he picked up the other, and they positioned themselves at one of the windows, holding very still as three raccoons came into view. The animals sniffed the air, then waddled over to the snacks.

Fitz aimed, but Jemma had a better angle. He nodded at her, and she held her breath and pressed the trigger. The rifle fired. “Oh!” she barked. Two of the raccoons scuttled back to cover, but the third lay collapsed on its side. Jemma set the gun down and hurried out the door, looking distraught. Fitz grabbed a pair of gloves and followed her.

“Everything alright?” he asked as he rounded the corner of the house to where Jemma was hunched over the raccoon.

“It’s still breathing,” she said. “And completely unresponsive. I think the projectile and the dendrotoxin worked exactly as we hoped.”  She looked up at him. “I started the timer. I hope it wakes up just fine.” Jemma bit her lip and climbed to her feet.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He put on one of the leather gloves and gingerly took the raccoon’s tail, pulling it around so they could eat their dinner on the cabin’s veranda and watch the animal to make sure it was safe and that it came out of its stupor okay.

Dinner was sandwiches and crisps. It was nice being outside with the sea breeze ruffling his hair.

By the time Jemma had neatly stacked their empty plates, the raccoon was showing signs of waking.

After a few tail twitches, the animal jumped to its feet, looked around, and beelined into the trees.

“I did not see any deleterious effects,” Jemma said, sounding satisfied.

“Not a single one. Excellent work.”

She beamed. “You as well, the delivery of the dose was perfect.” Jemma came around the table to sit next to him on the bench seat. “With all the excitement this week, it occurs to me you never said what you wanted today.” Her voice was throaty, and Fitz wondered if having a successful experiment was a turn on for her. It was for him, at least a little. Tangible evidence that his lab partner was brilliant did make him want to kiss her.

Or shag her, more accurately. No point in lying to himself. Though he also wanted to do that whenever she leaned over a counter or chewed on a pen, so it was hard to figure out the nuance.

“I did think of something,” he murmured, leaning towards her and wrapping a strand of her hair around his finger.

“Anything.” Her eyes were bright, and he had to lower his mouth to hers for a taste. There was salt from the ocean breeze on her lips, and he eagerly licked it off, almost forgetting his purpose for a moment.

Breaking the kiss, he looked into her warm eyes. “I was thinking E is for erotic massage. I want to put my hands all over you and make you moan for more than one reason.” She nodded, not looking away. “Go get naked,” he told her, “and lay face down on the bed. I stashed away a little bottle of moisturizer for tonight.”

“That’s where that went,” she said as she stood. “And I entirely agree with your choice. I have so many knots in my back, and a happy ending would be delightful.”

He stood and watched her walk into the cottage, then gave her a few minutes to get ready. His body was completely confused as he leaned against the door jamb and watched twilight deepen. It was certain he should already be shagging her and was getting very ready to do just that. His prick ached from wanting her and Fitz had to concede that he’d gotten extremely spoiled from having Jemma as a lover.

It never took much convincing on his part to get between her legs, and she just had to crook her finger, and he’d be ready, willing, and able. It wasn’t a bad way to live, honestly, and it was nice to have a chance tonight to show her just how much he loved every part of her.

Unable to wait for a second more, he went inside and firmly shut the door behind him. In the bedroom, he nearly abandoned his plans, because Jemma was laying on her belly on the bed, her arse on display, along with the sweep of her spine. She’d put her hair up, and her nape was begging for kisses.

He pulled his shirt off and removed his trousers, though he kept his boxers on. It took a bit of arranging to convince his prick to stay where he put it.

“I didn’t think the masseuse was supposed to be naked,” she said, not looking at him.

He opened the drawer of the dresser where he’d stashed the lotion. It was the kind that smelled like cherry-blossoms. “Well, with this erection I have from seeing your bare bum, leaving my trousers on was a health hazard.”

Jemma’s shoulders shook with her giggles. “I suppose I don’t want one of my favorite parts of you to be uncomfortable.”

“Very charitable of you.” He removed the lid of the tea tin that was his stash. It only had the lotion and his grandmother’s ring in it. His eyes caught on the gold band and he inhaled sharply. It was an engagement ring. Roomie had brought it with him, and Fitz became very aware that he could pluck it out of the box, give it to Jemma and ask her to be his wife. They were already better than married, but that piece of paper and a few vows would bind them together in everyone’s eyes.

It surprised Fitz exactly how much he wanted the entire world to know that they belonged together. He touched the ring but left it where it was. He’d come up with the perfect idea of how to give it to her very soon, but when she was expecting a rub down, and he was as hard as nails wasn’t the right time.

Fitz closed the drawer.

He flipped open the lotion’s top and dumped a bunch in his palm as she straddled Jemma’s legs. She wiggled, and it distracted him for a moment because her pussy was right there and he could easily fuck her like this. “Slide right in. I bet your cunt’s slippery for me.”

Jemma moaned, and her hips pushed towards him.

Bloody hell, his mouth needed an off switch. Or not, because it was always so much fun to see Jemma’s reaction to what he said.

“Cold,” he said in warning as he rubbed his hands together to spread the lotion. He scooted forward and set his palms on her back. Jemma sighed and relaxed against the bed. Fitz dragged his hands down either side of her spine. She hadn’t been kidding about the knots. He diligently worked on them, leaning forward to really press his fingers into the tight spots. It let him grind his cock against her arse, which he did with no shame. Jemma didn’t seem to mind.

He eventually had to move to her side to pick up her arm and work his fingers in long strokes down it, squirting more lotion whenever he needed to.

Every sound Jemma made was erotic, and her face was blissful.

Fitz moved to her other side and repeated the process for her other arm, kissing the middle of her palm when he was done drawing a series of ragged moans out of her.

Legs were next, but he started with her arse. He straddled her thighs, and his hands gripped her hips, then worked up and over the swell of her rear. He’d certainly been developing an attachment to this part of her and kneading it thoroughly while she hummed her enjoyment sent lightning straight through him.

“Are you enjoying this?” he asked.

“Very much. Your hands are magic.”

He cupped both cheeks or her bum one more time, then let them go. He ran a finger along the line where her arse met her thigh, then dipped it between her legs. She was incredibly wet and moaned loudly as his finger teased her.

He pulled it back, then gave in and braced his hands on either side of her and humped against her arse. The friction on his prick was delightful, and he ground down while muttering a curse.

“Fitz, please, Fitz,” Jemma pleaded, and it reminded him that his idea had been to be attentive to her. He reluctantly sat up and slid farther towards her feet. He drew his hands down her thighs.

Jemma trembled, but then she was wriggling out from under him.

“Jems?” Had he done something wrong?

“I need you,” she said, the words sounding like a command. Fitz’s hands flew to the waistband of his boxers, but she was standing up. “Not here. This is too big for in here. A folded blanket hit him in the chest. Jemma was wrapping a green one around her like a towel after a shower, and he stood and did the same with the blanket she’d tossed at him. At least kind of. He wrapped it around his waist and held it out in the front because his prick was damned uncomfortable and very confused about where Jemma was going.

He followed her through the house and outside. Their bare feet made no noise on the sand. It was completely dark now, the stars spread out overhead in a cloudless sky.

Jemma headed to the beach. The surf had stilled, and the Atlantic was barely lapping at the shore. There was no one else on the strand, and he couldn’t see any other cabin lights, though there had to be other people in the places up and down the shore. Jemma unwrapped the blanket from around her and laid it on the ground.

Moonlight bathed her in silver, streaking all the parts of her he wanted to be touching.

“Lie down, Fitz,” she said softly, and he spread out his blanket as well before sinking to sit on them, and then to lie flat on his back. A breeze sighed through the dry grass on the dunes, making it rustle. Jemma put a foot on either side of his hips and kneeled. She leaned over him and kissed him gently.

“What did you mean, too big for in there?” he asked as she moved from his lips to kiss along his jaw.

Jemma sat up. Her hands caressed his chest. “I love you so much, Fitz. I felt like I needed the sky and the ocean to witnesses it.” She shook her head, and he cupped her cheek. It was a lot coming from Jemma, who would probably have laughed if she’d read that in a book.

“I understand.” He did. Hadn’t he been feeling the same thing? That it was important the entire world knew how much he loved her? He would marry her and spend every possible second of his life beside her.

Fitz had no doubt they’d do great things. Save the world. Create the impossible.

None of it would be right without her there beside him. His world only made sense when they were together.

Jemma had apparently gone past the ability to talk. She rose enough to get his boxers down, then sank onto his cock.

The perfect bliss of being joined with her eclipsed the physical pleasure.

Jemma held still, eyes closed, slowly drawing in air and letting it out. The starry sky was the perfect backdrop behind her. She was the center of his universe.

Her thighs tensed, and she rolled her hips, quickly settling into a rhythm. Fitz offered up his hands for her to brace against, and she interlaced their fingers.

Part of him knew they were probably very visible as two extremely pale people fucking on the beach, but most of him didn’t care. Let the world see just how much they belonged together.

Jemma peaked quickly, but he was so enraptured with how strong his love was for her that she’d come three more times, pussy milking him hard, before his own peak neared.

He let go of her hands and fondled her breasts on his way down to grab her hips.

Jemma leaned forward and rode him wildly as he arched up into her.

He came, and for a second, he thought it was dawn before he figured out it was only lights exploding behind his eyelids.

Eventually, he relaxed against the sand. Jemma nestled onto his chest, and he held her tight.

He felt like he’d emptied the entirely of himself into her, but that she’d given just as much as herself back.  His heart was full.

The night curled sleepily around them, the sound of the ocean as timeless as his love.

****

_Sunday_

The Scrabble bag felt heavy in his hands, for saying there was almost nothing in it. The blank tile and last letter were in his pocket because something far more important was in the bag. Fitz didn’t know if this was exactly the special he’d been looking for, but he couldn’t wait another second and the ruddy tiles had been the reason they’d figured out they belonged together. It was only fitting.

He peeked into the kitchen and nearly had a heart attack. He’d known Jemma was making breakfast, but finding her swaying along to the big band music on the radio while wearing nothing but one of his plaid button-ups and pink knickers was making him dizzy. Her hair was up in a ponytail, the ends swaying along with her.

He scratched at his cheek and the beard that’d grown in. He hadn’t known it would get this thick this fast, but Jemma really didn’t seem to mind, so maybe he’d keep it after they went back. He wasn’t dressed smartly either, though he did have jeans and a clean t-shirt on.

Hopefully, Jemma wouldn’t mind him doing this while they were both a little rough.

Or mind that he was doing it all.

There just wasn’t any future he could imagine without her, and he wanted it to be official. Not an understood someday, but a here and now that would let the entire world know what Jemma was to him.

It was just scary, even though he was nearly certain what she would say.

Slowly, he edged into the kitchen.

Jemma did a little hip shimmy, and he very nearly dropped the bag and grabbed her to carry her back to bed, but he had a mission that a saucy move couldn’t derail.

“Jemma,” he said hoarsely as she moved a pancake to a stack next to the stove.

She looked over her shoulder at him, smiling. “Yes?”

“Want to come pick a letter?” He shook the bag at her.

She set the pan and spatula aside and sashayed over to him. He gulped.

“Is everything okay?” She took the bag, and the entire situation was basically out of his control now. He was going to be sick. “Fitz?” Instead of reaching into the bag, she put a hand on his arm. “I know it’s the last letter, but we already agreed we wouldn’t stop. I seriously don’t want to, ever. I even already have an idea for U.” She pushed up on her toes and kissed him.

“I don’t want to either. Stop, I mean. I don’t…just pick the tile.”

She dropped back down and laughed, and he was entirely sure he wanted nothing more than to make her smile as much as possible forever. His mouth went dry as she lowered her eyes to the bag in her hand and opened the top.

Jemma reached in with a couple of fingers, and her expression went from smiling to shocked. “Fitz?” she whispered as she pulled her fingers from the bag and turned it over so the ring fell onto her palm.

Fitz went to one knee and clasped shaking hands around hers. “Jemma, I love you so much, and I can’t imagine being anywhere else but by your side. Will you marry me?”

Her lip formed a wavering smile even though tears streamed down her face. “Yes, Fitz. Yes. There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted like I want you.”


	27. U

_Tuesday_

The ocean was loud as Jemma opened her eyes. There’d been a bit of storm the night before, and the noise of the surf rolling to shore must be the last lingering effects of the inclement weather. Morning sunlight was spilling in through the open window along with the noise from the waves. A breeze blew in the scent of sea and salt, and with Fitz holding her tight under the quilt, she was perfectly warm and content.

She turned her head to look at her fiancé—her heart skipped a beat—and smiled. Fitz was fast asleep and drooling on her shoulder again, but she didn’t mind. She loved him. Had always loved him. When they got back to their regularly scheduled lives she had no doubt that her parents and his mum would be the opposite of surprised that she and Fitz were engaged. His mother had probably insisted on sending the ring with that in mind in the first place.

The bed shook a little as she turned on her side to face her sleeping fiancé. She cupped his cheek and put a leg over his hip. His lower half pushed forward and she smiled as he unconsciously ground his morning wood against her.

“Fitz,” she breathed, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. His eyes fluttered open and his breathing changed. A huge smile spread across his face as the press of his cock against her core became rhythmic.

“Did you start without me?”

“Not quite.” She stilled his hips with her hand and wiggled out of her knickers before pulling down his boxers. She fisted his cock and tugged a few times before lining him up with her pussy. He pushed in, her body as ready to welcome him as he was to enter.

“Jemma,” he mumbled, eyes closed again. She scratched her nails against his stubble, enjoying the rough feel under her fingers.

They moved languidly together, Jemma finally letting go of his face to set a finger on her clit, but even that wasn’t hurried. She didn’t rub at herself, just pushed softly, letting the motion of their bodies do the work. Fitz pressed his forehead to hers. Jemma basked in the way Fitz loved her, fully and unconditionally.

Her own love seemed huge, boundless. It was something she wanted to wrap him in always, so he’d never doubt for a second how she felt. How she had always felt.

There were no words to encompass what was in her heart, so she held onto Fitz in the little bed with its old springs and white sheets and hoped he understood from how she made love to him.

“Love you,” he whispered before yawning and snuggling closer with his arm around her shoulders and his face pressed to her neck.

“Love you too.” Tiny tremors made her thighs quiver and she sucked in a breath. Her finger pressed against her clit a little harder and she came. Her breath left her and Fitz mouthed her neck. His thrusts became harder, and she grabbed his arse, encouraging him to do what he needed.

His breath was warm against her skin, little puffs of air that almost tickled. “Oh,” he murmured and went still as his cock jerked inside her. Jemma stroked his back as he didn’t move right away. She loved the sweet moments of holding him after making love.

Fitz gave a little, snorting, snore.

She rolled her eyes and bit back a laugh. Disentangling herself, she let him sleep as she showered and put her hair up. It was midmorning before Fitz shuffled out of the bedroom, yawning and stretching. He came over and kissed her forehead before showering, dressing, and attacking a defenseless bowl of cereal for breakfast.

Jemma was halfway through an article on plant spore resiliency when a noise reached her ears. It was a faint heartbeat over the sound of the waves. She looked up at the same time Fitz did. There’d been no message on the printer.

“Helicopter,” he breathed. He called all but one of the drones back, letting it be their eyes. They stood huddled together in the kitchen, watching the helicopter descend. To her relief, there was a SHIELD logo on the side, but she didn’t let go of her deathgrip on Fitz’s arm until she saw Fury jump out.

Fitz huffed and the drone buzzed by the Director’s ear before zipping in through a window so Fitz could catch it and put it with the others. He went to open the door.

“Were you trying to take my head off?” Fury said as he walked into the cabin.

“Can’t,” Fitz shrugged a shoulder. “Safety catches.”

Fury made a face. “Pack up, it’s time to go.”

Fitz mumbled something and looked at Jemma. “Do you want the night-night gun prototypes? We have two that are functional.”

“You got those working?” Fury sound incredulous, and Jemma felt huffy.

“Of course we did.”

Fitz held up one of the guns. “We tested it and everything.”

“Well…really?”

Jemma crossed her arms. “Were we not supposed to?”

“It’s been a week. Didn’t think you’d two would actually be able to without a lab.”

“Then why did you ask us?” she bit out. Fitz snorted and put down the gun. He headed into the bedroom.

“To keep two of my brightest scientists safe and out of harm's way.”

Jemma could strangle him. It’d been busy work. “What about before? When you first asked us to start designing them? With the separate and generous budget?” She walked to the kitchen table to disassemble the now-unneeded communication device. She carefully separated out what belonged to Roomie because Fitz would need it later to reassemble the vacuum.

“I’ll explain it all, soon. Right now I want you two to pack up your car. I have an agent who’s going to drive it back to your apartment while you and Fitz fly back to the sci-ops building.”

“Fine,” Jemma said. “I suppose Hydra has been uprooted?”

“From inside SHIELD, yes. It’s leaving us scrambling. I’ve got someone who’s very put out that he has to decide on another ops agent because his first choice turned out to be a mole.” Fury rubbed at his forehead. “I’ll be waiting in the bird.”

Jemma rushed to pack everything into the car, but even with Fitz’s help it still took most of twenty minutes. She didn’t enjoy turning the keys over to the young man in a suit who’d be doing the driving. He promised it all get safely to their flat, but until Jemma laid eyes on Roomie again, she was going to be worried.

The prototypes of the guns stayed with her and Fitz as they strapped themselves into the helicopter. The blades came to life and her stomach dropped as they took off. Fitz frowned and took her hand, intertwining their fingers, which probably meant she was looking a little green.

Once they got going, her fear disappeared and she eagerly pointed things out to Fitz. They had their own channel for their headsets, and Fitz described some of the physics of helicopter flight to her between breaks to look at the scenery.

Fury mostly ignored them as he poked at his mobile.

They landed on the roof of the Sci-Ops building, and as they walked into the building behind Fury, guns in hand and flanked by other, scarier, SHIELD agents, Jemma felt like a conquering hero. Fitz with his beard and fierce expression must be feeling the same, and she rather wished she could kiss him.

The group went down the stairs and around the cubicles to the boss’ office. The plaque with Richard’s name was gone. Fury paused. “I should warn you that Dick doesn’t work here anymore. He’s at an undisclosed location.”

Jemma gasped. “He was Hydra?”

“No.” Fury shook his head. “He wasn’t smart enough to be Hydra. He was embezzling. All those pared down budgets and lack of decent chairs, that was him. That’s why I wanted to run a project budget with you outside of regular channels because he was reporting everyone here using huge amounts of money.”

Jemma’s hands tightened around the gun she was holding, the muzzle pointed at the floor.

“The bloody bastard,” Fitz snarled. “We spent so much time­—” He broke off and rubbed at his forehead.

Fury shrugged. “He’ll pay. And we had to choose a new boss.” Jemma perked up, and she sucked in a breath. She was perfect for the job. Her organization skills alone would make her a shoo-in. “Don’t look like that,” Fury said to her. “It’s not you. I have other plans for you two.”

Jemma’s shoulders slumped. “Who is it?”

The door of the office opened, and Molly was standing there, all smiles with her mobile clutched in her hand. “Fitz-Simmons!” she chirped. “Welcome back! I’m so glad you’re okay, and I completely forgive you for lying about Florida. I could hardly believe when SHIELD agents rushed in, and Trevor was knocked out cold beside his desk. And Richard? Can you believe it?” Molly’s fingers were tapping rapidly at the screen of her phone. “And I’m the new boss! It’s because of my people skills.”

Jemma’s eyes found Fury’s. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. Jemma forced her lips into a smile. “Congratulations, Molly.”

Molly must have been informing the entire office that Jemma and Fitz were there because a small crowd was forming around their little entourage. Jemma avoided making eye contact with Milton, though Sherri’s open mouth look of surprise when she caught sight of Fitz was very satisfying.

“I’m so glad you finished the non-lethal prototypes,” Molly continued. “It’s an important project. Do they work? I…oh my god, Jemma!” Molly squealed and grabbed Jemma’s hand. “Is that an engagement ring? Did Fitz ask?”

“Yes, and yes he did.” Jemma’s smile became genuine as an excited Molly hugged her, rifle and all.

“I’m so excited for you!” Molly said when she pulled back. “And Fitz too. You’re so cute and smart together.” She was almost bouncing in her excitement. “Wait, the guns do work?”

Fitz raised his and squeezed off a shot, startling everybody. Milton dropped to the floor. “They do.” Fitz said mildly, lowering the weapon. Sherri edged behind one of the other scientists.

Fury chuckled. “Excellent. Your car will be here as soon as possible, I suggest you do some catching up on work. I’ll be in touch soon. I have big plans for you.”

He swept away, and after Jemma checked to make sure Milton was breathing and had a pillow, she followed Fitz to their lab. It looked untouched, which was a huge relief.

“Ten quid says we’re going to be assigned to the Hub,” Fitz said, beaming at her and holding up a hand.

She gave him a high five. “You’re on. I’ll say HQ. Fury likes to keep his best close by.”

Jemma almost wanted to dance. She was in love, engaged, and about to be promoted. It was everything she’d ever dreamed of as a little girl.

****

_Friday_

Jemma took a bite of her lunch as she watched Fitz’s face go through a series of emotions as he talked to his mum. She’d called her parents that morning, and her mum had obviously immediately turned around and called Fitz’s mother with the engagement news. He hadn’t been able to talk to her until they were sitting in Jemma’s office eating. He’d trimmed his beard but hadn’t shaved, for which she was grateful.

“Yes, mum,” Fitz said into his mobile. “You were right, the ring does fit Jemma perfectly and it looks great on her finger. Nan would be very proud.” There was a pause. “Yes, I’ll tell Jemma you can’t wait for her to be your daughter-in-law.” He said his I love yous and good-byes before hanging up.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Jemma said as Fitz took a big bite of carrot and hummus.

He shook his head and swallowed. “It was a lot of gloating. How’d she figure it out before I did?”

Jemma smiled and picked up her once more functional mobile. “I think we might have been the last to know.” She opened her email and fired one off at him. 

His phone pinged and he read the message. “U is for unknown?” He looked up at her, the plastic chair he was in creaking as he shifted. “We didn’t even properly pick, it could have been the blank tile.”

“It’s the last letter, so I’m going to say it’s mine by the default.”

Fitz didn’t argue. “What does unknown mean?”

“Blindfold,” she said, and Fitz started to raise a hand. “You,” she elaborated, and he shyly pointed at himself.

“I’d like that.”

Jemma bit her lip and smiled. “I know.”

***

_Saturday_

Jemma paused in the entrance to the hallway, watching Fitz sitting on the floor and cursing as he worked on reassembling Roomie. His laptop was open and connected to Roomie’s brain, and Jemma was certain there were more parts lying around than had originally been inside the vacuum.

Roomie was going to be better than ever.

She toyed with the sash of her robe. Her room was set up, the bed stripped with the coffee colored fitted sheet in place, and a few candles lit.

It’s where they’d started, and she wanted to finish their twenty-six letters the same way.

Half a year and an alphabet later, and they were engaged.

“I think our experiment worked liked it was supposed to,” she said, and Fitz looked over his shoulder at her. He set down what he was doing and rose, crossing the room to take her hand.

“This one?” He traced a finger over her wrist.

“Yes. We wanted to improve our sexual abilities and expand our repertoire so that we could find long term mates.”

“Then it did work as planned.” His long fingers brushed over her palm to tap the ring she wore.

“Entirely, but we still have one last letter.” Jemma led Fitz to her room, but there was no hesitation as he pulled her into his arms. She cupped his cheek as he kissed her, their mouths moving together in concert.

When he pulled back, it was only to strip his shirt off and grab her robe’s sash. He slowly pulled it open and pushed the material from her shoulders, his eyes drinking her in.

Jemma reached out and hooked a finger into the waistband of his trousers. She stilled. The bulge of his erection was visible, and she dropped her hand down to trace it through the fabric. Fitz hummed his approval.

She felt so comfortable with him now. Knew what he liked, and she knew what she liked. “Don’t take your trousers off,” she said softly. “Not yet. But go lie on the bed.”

He slapped her arse as he walked by to do as she’d asked, and Jemma couldn’t quite squash a giggle. He was much more confident now. All the fear that somehow he wouldn’t measure up was gone, and Jemma rather appreciated the cocky smile he gave her before sliding on the blindfold she’d left on the pillow and lying down with his arms raised above his head.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to eat you out?” he asked. “It was the first thing we did.”

“Mmm.” Jemma climbed onto the bed and pressed two fingers into her channel, coating them with her slickness. She pressed them to Fitz’s lips, and he eagerly licked and sucked them. “It’s tempting. Your oral skills are impressive.” His cheeks pinked. “But not right now.” She was kneeling beside him and took his hand, pressing his fingers to her folds this time.

Fitz circled her clit, and she moaned. His cock twitched in his trousers as he pushed several fingers inside her. It felt good, amazing. He was sliding his palm against her clit and mons and fucking her in and out with his fingers, and he was so good at it. Even blindfolded, he knew she was responding by touch and the little sounds she was making.

As good as his fingers felt, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. She moved off his hand and straddled him, grinding against his hard-on.

Fitz surged up against her. He’d put the hand she been directing over his head again, and Jemma was having trouble catching her breath. He was hers. His body, yes, but his future. His days and nights. His joy, anger, and sadness. They would share it all. And he’d share hers. A whole life.

“Jemma?” Fitz asked, pushing up one side of the blindfold.

“Hey,” she said, pouting, and he dropped it back into place and returned his hands to over his head.

“Better.” She patted his tummy and undid his trousers, pulling them down and off his legs. His cock arched onto his belly and her sex throbbed. She scrambled off the bed and retrieved her phone from her desk. Holding it up, she turned the camera on.

“Uh, Jems?” Fitz asked.

“Hold still. I’m taking pictures.” She paused. “If that’s alright?”

“I appreciate the ask, but…last time…” He shrugged. “Stuff happened. But I guess go ahead.”

She raised her phone and took a picture of him splayed out and waiting on her. “And that stuff meant you figured out how to keep it from happening again. We’re safe.”  

Fitz’s lips pursed. “Then I want boob photos.”

She laughed and poked his arm, handing him her phone. Fitz pushed the blindfold up and waited as she positioned herself straddling him, her breasts in her hands. He snapped a couple, looking delighted, and then she dropped, arranging her tits around his cock.

Fitz squinted at the screen. “Tilt your chin up a little, maybe bite your lip. Perfect.” He tossed the camera aside after that, then the blindfold. She frowned.

“Some other time,” he said. “We have years of being as kinky as we want together. I’ve got ideas for some of those days, and you probably have an itinerary or checklist. Tonight, I don’t want things to be unknown. I’m vetoing your choice.” He rolled her over and nibbled at her breast.

“You’re vetoing the last letter?”

“Yup.”

“Seems a bit late in the game for that.”

He sucked her nipple into his mouth and looked thoughtful. “Mumpfff?”

“What?”

He raised his mouth for a second. “Underneath?” And right back to sucking.

“That’s not really a sex act.”

Fitz increased the suction as he concentrated, then let her go. “Utterly want to fuck you?”

Utterly was far to close to udder for her liking and she eyed her fiancé. “I’ll allow that one.” Mostly to keep him from continuing to guess.

Fitz grinned and switched his mouth to the other side, his hand coming up to knead the breast he’d just abandoned.

Jemma melted into the bed. The ache in her sex was growing, but she was content to let him do as he wished. Her hands tangled into his hair and she scratched lightly. It felt like they had all the time in the world to explore each other. Even if what Fitz mostly seemed interested in at the minute was her boobs. He was nuzzling them with his entire face, his hands on the sides to squish them together.

She’d be lying if she didn’t enjoy the rasp of his scruff against her nipples. He turned his head to the side and sucked on one nipple while rubbing the other against his cheek and she moaned, loudly.

Fitz laughed, looking delighted.

“I’m empty,” she said, trying to give him a hint.

Fitz studied her for a second, then abandoned her to go poke in the drawers beside her bed. He returned with her dildo and lube. “Empty Jemma,” he said with a little tut, lubing up the dildo. “I supposed I need to fix that.”

“You could Fitz it,” she said hopefully as he knelt between her spread legs.

He rolled his eyes and bent to her pussy to lap at her clit. Her hips lifted. He teased the dildo against her, running it through her folds, but then dropped it down to press at her anus. He only slid a couple of inches in while frantically licking her. Jemma undulated. His fingers slid into her pussy, and he angled them just right.

Pleasure exploded inside her, roaring out from her center like a tidal wave. Fitz pulled the dildo from her and cast it aside while her back arched and she fought not to scream.

He crawled up her body and slammed his cock into her, and she keened. He kissed her throat as she came back to reality.

“My turn,” Fitz said, giving her a last peck on the lips. “My cock’s aching to fuck your slick cunt.” The words sent a fresh bolt of lust to her pussy. He pushed himself up a little on his hands. “I want to watch those pretty titties of yours bounce while I’m rogering you.” His hips surged forward hard, pulled back, and then he was jackhammering into her. All Jemma could do was cling as he fucked her. Her legs shook, and her hands dug into his back. She came again, crying out her pleasure against his shoulder.

When he paused, his eyes were glassy. For a moment he was dazed, then his eyes closed. “My Jemma,” he said, roughly jerking his hips. His cock was impossibly hard and deep inside her. He thrusts a few more times, then came. He groaned harshly as he filled her, cock pulsing with his release.

She directed him to her side when all his muscles became suddenly uncoordinated. He collapsed with a sigh, and Jemma brushed his curls off his forehead.

“Debrief?” she asked, and Fitz made a face.

“Why?” It was almost a whine.

She laughed. “Because I said so.”

“Fine. I will love you forever and ever, and I really like fucking you, and you have lovely tits.” Fitz yawned and cuddled close to her. His arm went around her waist.

“I love you too, and I am also very pleased with our sex life.” She sighed in contentment. “We know each other so well sexually that we can take care of each other’s needs readily now. It’s just like working together, it flows easily, and we are much, much better when we are together.”

“I’m not going to argue that. Because we are much better together…fiancée.”

She rolled to her side and hugged him while raining kisses on his smug little smile. When his stomach growled, she made him get up and go to the kitchen to make popcorn while she found them something to watch.

It was nice to get back to normal.

****

_Sunday_

Jemma turned the waffle maker off. She set Fitz’s plate in front of him, and after dumping enough syrup on the waffles for three people, he eagerly cut a bite. The sound he made as he put in in his mouth was almost orgasmic. She patted his shoulder before sitting down with her plate. She used a lot less syrup.

Roomie trundled into the kitchen.

“Roomie, not now, go vacuum the hallway,” she said. The vacuum beeped in acknowledgment and turned around. Fitz looked very pleased with himself. Once the popcorn had been finished last night, he’d gotten back to work on their vacuum. He’d finished piecing it back together in the morning, and Roomie now had a much smarter brain, better sensors, and voice commands.

She adored it. Their breakfast was warm and delicious, and over too soon.

While they were cleaning the dishes, Jemma’s mobile beeped, followed by a chirp from Fitz’s.

“Head to your lab. There’s a contact waiting to meet you,” Fitz read. “It’s signed Fury.”

Jemma wrinkled her nose. “It’s our day off.” Fitz just looked at her. “Okay, fine. Let me get dressed. What could they possibly want now?” How rude to make them come in on their day off, even if it was promotion related. She started to stand, but the scrabble bag caught her eye.

She sat back down and offered the bag to Fitz.

He took it from her and shook out the very last tile and held it up. Blank.

 


	28. And Now I Know

_Still Sunday_

Fitz walked into the quiet building with Jemma beside him and headed for their lab. This jaunt to work had better be worth it. He’d had to put actual trousers on when most of his plans had involved getting Jemma out of hers. It was their bloody day off.

Their lab was lit up, all the lights blazing. They walked through the door, and Fitz stopped dead.

No.

“Excuse me—” Jemma started.

“Where’s my fucking holotable?” Fitz barked, barely even registering that there was someone already in the lab.

“Hi, you must be Fitz?” a man said, and Fitz whirled to face him. He looked a little familiar, but Fitz wasn’t interested in who he might be.

“Where’s my table?”

Jemma put a hand on Fitz’s arm. “I’m Simmons, and this is Fitz,” she said brightly. “And I believe you’re Phil Coulson, though that should be an impossibility, what with the death and all.”

The man smiled widely. “It didn’t stick.”

Fitz pointed vehemently at the now empty space in the lab. “My table.”

“Oh, Fitz.” Jemma squeezed his arm. He rolled his eyes. She, of all people, should know how important the holotable had become to his work. He had no idea how she was being so blasé about it being missing.

Coulson laughed. “I might have gotten a little ahead of myself with that. See, I have a proposal for you.”

Fitz pouted, but Jemma nodded.

“I’m putting a team together. We’d be mobile, able to deploy anywhere on the globe, wherever we’re needed, and I need brain power. Fury recommended you two. An engineer and a biochemist with a strong medical background.”

“Don’t see what has to do with my table,” Fitz grumbled.

Jemma squeezed harder. “This is a field assignment?”

“Yes.” Coulson crossed his arms. “You’d move up to level five and be on the front lines of SHIELD’s efforts to keep the planet safe.”

A trickle of excitement wound its way through Fitz. It was what he’d been dreaming of when he’d joined SHIELD: saving people. He looked over at Jemma. Her eyes were bright.

She turned towards him. “Oh, Fitz, this is so exciting. Please say you want to go.”

“It’s a lot of change,” he hedged.

“We can bring Roomie.”

“Roomie?” Coulson asked.

Jemma nodded. “It’s our vacuum.”

“Vacuum?” Coulson sounded even more confused.

Fitz gazed into Jemma’s very excited eyes. “Well,” he said. “I’d need to upgrade him again. Things can happen on a plane. What if there’s a depressurization? He needs a sensor for that that instantly triggers an electromagnet that can clamp him to the floor.” He immediately started a motor redesign to account for that, then cursed when he remembered his blasted table wasn’t there to help.

“Is that a yes?” Jemma said softly.

“Of course, this is an excellent opportunity.” He pressed a kiss to her lips absentmindedly while he thought through the sensitivity needed for the pressure sensor. When he pulled back, his stomach dropped. “Wait.”

“Wait?” Jemma echoed.

Fitz turned to Coulson. “We need an exemption.”

“Exemption?” Coulson said frowning.

Fitz sighed. “Section seventeen? We’re engaged.” He put an arm around Jemma. “I’m not about to give that up.” Jemma melted against his side.

“Agreed,” she said softly. “Fitz and I are a package deal, exactly as we are, or not at all.”

“Oh,” Coulson waved a hand and chuckled. “I’ve already got that paperwork in place.  We all know about you two.” His cheeks pinked a little.

“You do?” Jemma said carefully.

“Of course. The scientists with the dirty videos that their coworkers stole. You copied one of their phones in retaliation and blew Hydra’s cover within SHIELD. Thanks for that, by the way. Saving the world with porn.”

“That not quite—” Jemma broke off with a sigh. Fitz rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s a very bare-bones retelling of that,” he said.

“Anyway, my point isn’t that.” Phil’s expression was amused. “It’s that we’re aware of the nature of your relationship and have already made additional room on the plane for a private, and soundproofed, bunk for you. My only request is to keep it professional in the lab.”

Fitz nodded in tandem with Jemma. “I just have one question about this mobile lab,” he said.

“Shoot.”

“Is my table there?”

****

_Tuesday, [redacted] months later_

Fitz groaned as he swept his tongue over Jemma’s clit. She squirmed, no easy feat with her back against the wall and one leg over his shoulder.

“Can you breathe under there?” she asked, sounding a little breathless herself.

It wasn’t exactly how he’d meant to spend the last few moments before he married Jemma, but their friends had insisted they sleep apart the night before because of “tradition”. When he’d been walking by and seen Jemma in her white gown, their own tradition of shagging on Tuesday mornings had meant that he’d instantly gotten hard. He’d run into the room where she was thankfully alone and slammed the door closed.

 Jemma had taken one look at him and promptly given him a hand job so he wouldn’t be tenting his trousers during the ceremony, but then she’d been flushed and needy. Fitz couldn’t leave her wanting, which had resulted in the current predicament where he’d pulled off her lacy knickers and ensconced himself under her puffy white skirt to lick her senseless.

“I’m good,” he called. There really wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

Fitz pushed several fingers into her and adjusted them to a make-Jemma-come-now angle. He’d not settled for just knowing one way to please her but had mental maps of how to draw things out and tease, or how to get her off very quickly.

Jemma rolled her hips against his tongue as she gave muffled little squeals. A few more thrusts with his fingers and swipes with his tongue and she shattered. Her noise of completion was less muffled, but he wasn’t too worried. They were tucked away in a corner of the large house that his mum had rented for the wedding.

With his and Jemma’s busy schedules, planning had become an issue, but everyone they knew had been thrilled to take over the details. Fitz knew he owed a large amount of gratitude to whoever had talked his mum out of trying to get him to wear a kilt. He did have a blue and green plaid waistcoat on under his suit jacket, and it matched ribbons in Jemma’s hair. Both were nice touches.

Fitz tapped Jemma’s clit a few more times than backed up from under her skirt and stood. She immediately fussed with his hair and clothes, though she was very bright-cheeked and had shining eyes.

“This is all your fault, you know,” he said.

Jemma’s hands faltered, then fell to her sides. “My fault?”

He smiled. “You’re the one who chose a Tuesday for this whole thing.”

“Oh, well, I had no idea that we wouldn’t be sleeping in the same room, now did I?”  She glanced in a mirror to assess her hair, which was immaculately in place. How much hairspray had she used? “I expected to wake up, have our usual morning shag, get married, celebrate with all our friends and family, shag again, sleep, and be carted off to the Cape for our honeymoon. Not be frustrated by Skye deciding we couldn’t see each other. What rubbish, we’ve seen each other daily since we were sixteen.”

His heart skipped a beat. Taking Jemma’s hands, he lifted them to his face and kissed her knuckles. “And now we’re going to be husband and wife.” A smile stretched his mouth wide. “My wife. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”

Jemma laughed softly. “Fitz, we've essentially been married for ages. A few words and a piece of paper doesn’t make it any more valid.”

“I know.” His thumbs brushed over her fingers. “But I still want them. For everyone else, so that they know exactly where we stand.”

“Together.”

“Together.” She blushed prettily, and he leaned in to peck at her glossy lips. “There’s just one thing missing,” Jemma said, turning away from him.

“There is?” Damn, what had he missed? He quickly ran through mental checklists, but before he’d gotten very far, she dropped a chain and pendant into his hand and turned around so he could put it around her neck. He lifted the chain. Swinging on the end of it was the blank scrabble tile. “Oh, Jems.” He put the chain around her neck and fastened the clasp, pressing a kiss to her nape when he was done.

She touched the tile with a finger. “I thought it was fitting. I adore this was the last one, blank for all the unknown future we have together. And because if I hadn’t dropped those bloody tiles in the first place, then we might not have ended up here.”

“I don’t believe that. Perhaps not this exact moment, but we would have always ended up in each other’s arms.”

“I think so too.”

There was a knock at the door. “I need Fitz,” Skye yelled through it. “It’s time to get this show on the road.”

Jemma turned around, and he leaned in one last time to give her what he hoped was a reassuring kiss before leaving to let Skye direct him to where he was supposed to stand and wait for Jemma. He thought it was all a bit silly, but it was nice that everyone was there to celebrate with them.

He smiled at his mum while Skye fussed over him, making sure his tie and collar were straight. His mum waved and nudged Jemma’s mother, who beamed at him. Fitz flushed and let his eyes wander around the room, the flowers and tulle leaving no doubt a wedding that was about to take place.

A piano started playing something traditional, and the gathered guests quieted down.

Coulson and May walked arm and arm down the aisle, and once again Fitz was very glad that Jemma had picked flattering bridesmaid’s dresses, a muted dark red with no embellishments. If it’d had a giant bow on the butt or been bright pink, May would have come up with endless horrors for them to do. Missions to sewers for days.

Bobbi followed, technically the maid of honor, arm, and arm with her ex-husband Hunter, who was Fitz’s best mate. It still amazed Fitz that Bobbi hadn’t been the first choice for Coulson’s team, but when that pick had been exposed in the Hydra fiasco, Bobbi had been called in. Hunter had somehow ended up on board as well, Bobbi having vouched for him.

Bobbi’s lipstick was slightly smeared, and Hunter had a few traces of it on his mouth that he seemed blissfully unaware of. Fitz leaned over when Hunter came to stand beside him. “That’s a great color on you.”

Hunter’s brows shot up, and he frantically rubbed at his mouth.

Skye came down the aisle next, sprinkling flower petals as she’d insisted on doing, and shepherding Roomie along. The vacuum had a red pillow with the rings tied to it attached to its top.

“Go to Hunter,” Skye said when they reached the front of the aisle. Roomie shifted back and forth as his optical sensor scanned the room, then whirred over to bump against Hunter’s foot. Roomie had proved invaluable more than once as a way to secret information, spy, or deliver something necessary at exactly the right moment, and everyone considered the little robot part of the team.

The music changed to the bridal march. Fitz’s heart jumped into his throat.

This was it. The moment he’d been dreaming of for years.

He stood up a little straighter as Jemma, escorted by her father, walked down the aisle towards him.

Molly squealed from where she was sitting, and Fitz had no doubt the wedding was being live-streamed back to their old lab. He liked to think everyone there was cheering on him and Jemma. Or maybe making bets about the ceremony.

Jemma’s father kissed her cheek and went to sit down as Fitz took Jemma’s hand in his.

She looked amazing. He had to remind himself to breathe as her eyes met his.

Jemma smiled, and Fitz felt the rightness of the day seep down into the atoms of his being. He was doing what he’d always been meant to do.

He was marrying the most wonderful women in the world.

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this fic! I really enjoyed writing it and I can hardly believe it's already over! I feel like I just started the planning for what each of the letters would be! I greatly appreciate everyone encouraging me along the way, it makes it all worthwhile! And please feel free to drop me a line about the fic whether I just posted it or it's been ten years! 
> 
> (OMG GUYS, HIATUS IS OVER)
> 
> 0806, my kitchen table

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are loved and welcomed (and feed the muse). Short, long, kudos, questions, or speculation (what will that letter be for??) Here or on tumblr [@sunalsolove](https://sunalsolove.tumblr.com)
> 
> Updates on Sundays!


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